


Upon A Painted Ocean

by non_tiembo_mala



Series: Inked Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jensen, Goofiness, J2, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Piercings, Punk Jared, Rime of the Ancient Mariner - Freeform, Romance, Schmoop, Tattoo AU, Tattoo Artist Jensen, Tattoos, Top Jared, book nerds, smart boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:12:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/pseuds/non_tiembo_mala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared’s been jonesing for some ink from renowned tattoo artist Jensen Ackles forever. When he finally gets the chance, Jared discovers pretty quickly that’s not all he wants from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon A Painted Ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Making Spirits Bright](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788049) by [dollylux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux). 



> My amazing beta [Dancing_Adrift](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift/pseuds/Dancing_Adrift) and I were making our way through the many works of the talented [dollylux](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux) and, after reading the work I referenced as inspiration, what started as brief conversation about the (numerous) merits of Jared with tattoos and piercings quickly spiraled into pages of notes for this AU fic. Really though, I can't post this without gushing about my beta who is so much more than that; she is my sounding board in every way, and gets me through every writer's block no matter how small or massively frustrating. Without her there's no way I'd get through anything and I can't thank her enough for her endless patience, her ideas, and all of her support <3 <3 <3
> 
> The story refers more than once to a poem called [The Rime of the Ancient Mariner](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173253) by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. You don't have to read the poem for its significance to be relevant. It deals primarily with the mythology behind or the trope of the albatross. It's very briefly and superficially outlined [here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albatross_%28metaphor%29) if you're interested. The story's title is lifted from the poem as well.

 

Jared couldn’t help that there was an extra bounce in his step on this particular Tuesday morning. He’d been looking forward to today for a very long time. He was so excited, in fact, that he even woke up without his alarm. Mondays and Tuesdays were always his days off, but since he typically worked late tending bar, he was a bit of a night owl, prone to oversleeping, and he hated to waste any of his precious free time. It felt good to wake up on his own. He had deliberately left the windows of his bachelor apartment uncovered the night before to help him get up, and the sunshine streamed in, warming the exposed skin of his back, his duvet and sheets having been kicked off sometime during the night. He was surprisingly well-rested. Or maybe that was just the enthusiasm, he wasn’t entirely sure. It was welcome nonetheless.

He went through his usual morning routine - bathroom, work out, shower - and ate his usual breakfast - banana, bagel smeared with peanut butter, tall glass of milk - before bothering to get dressed. He put on his favourite pair of jeans, the ones that fit him best, light and a little slim; his favourite Pearl Jam shirt which he’d gotten when he saw them in concert however many times ago, perfectly soft and worn in, black, with the band’s name in white across the front, tour dates on the back; and his Chucks. He debated wearing one of his beanies, but a quick check of his phone confirmed what he already suspected, that it was much too nice out and would end up too warm for that. So instead he towel dried his hair a little more thoroughly and gave it a shake to let it fall where it would, shaggy and hanging about an inch above his shoulders, the rich brown fading into dark green at the ends. He tucked his wallet in his back pocket and grabbed his aviators on his way out.

Jared impulsively looked at his phone again to check the time as he stepped out the front door of his building. Waking up on his own had some perks, it seemed. He had more time to spare than he’d imagined and leisurely made his way to his favourite coffee joint a few blocks away to grab an Americano. He hummed to himself as he took his first tastes of it, stepping back into the sunshine, and decided he’d indulge a little more, hitting up a local bookstore. He perused the shelves at length, sipping absentmindedly at his coffee and not looking for anything in particular but rather something that might catch his eye.

As he wandered his way through the Fiction section, he noticed he’d attracted the stares of a conservative-looking older couple, and he smirked to himself. Jared was always a little reserved - he didn’t crave attention in general, and he certainly didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought about him - but he secretly thrilled at the sideways looks and too-long glances he often received. Besides the fact that he was a fit and towering 6’4 with unnaturally coloured hair, he had more than a few extra holes in his head, from the small bar in his eyebrow, to the rings in his septum and the right side of his bottom lip, and the variety of rings in his ears. Jared also sported quite the assortment of tattoos; his left arm was a complete sleeve, traditional, with three beautiful koi fish, waves spiking up all around, and cherry blossoms floating throughout. On his other forearm he had a tiger in equally traditional style. Most of his right leg was inked too, not that anyone knew that to look at him on the street, his jeans keeping it a secret for today.

He winked at the woman who was still watching him as she fingered the pearls at her neck and she started, finally realizing she was staring, and turned to busy herself with the closest bookshelf. Jared’s grin would’ve been blinding to anyone if they’d still been looking. He continued sipping on his coffee, tilting his head to read the spines of the books as he went by, and eventually pulled a copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s _Cat’s Cradle_. He’d lost his copy during his most recent move, and he’d been meaning to read it again for a while now. He brought it to the counter to pay and enjoyed how the middle-aged cashier did his best not to stare at him. He ditched his empty coffee cup in the store’s recycling bin and, checking the clock on his phone again, decided it was about the right time to make his way to the subway. The shop would just be opening by the time he’d make it to his destination, hidden away on a corner in Greenwich Village.  

Once Jared was on the subway car, tucked into one of the tiny available plastic chairs, he pulled out his phone and his headphones from his pocket. He pushed in the earbuds and set his phone to shuffle through every Our Lady Peace album he had on it. Then he thumbed over the Instagram icon on his screen and smiled to see the newest image that came up. It was a gorgeous tattoo flash of a lion’s head, roaring and regal looking, crowned with roses. He double-tapped to favourite it the same way he favourited all of Jensen’s pictures. Jared followed a number of celebrity tattoo artists on Instagram, but Jensen Ackles had been his favourite for at least a year now. There wasn’t a single flash or tattoo that Jensen posted that Jared didn’t straight-up adore, and he’d often dreamed about someday getting some ink from the guy. Jared had always operated under the assumption that these artists, with huge numbers of followers and an international audience - thank you, Internet - were travelling around from convention to convention, their home shops somehow distant and out of reach. It wasn’t until Jensen had posted a picture a few months back that was clearly the interior of a New York subway car with the caption ‘my morning commute’ that Jared had even thought to look up where Wayward Sails Tattoo was located. The moment Jared realized that Jensen’s little shop was just on the other side of Manhattan, he started squirrelling away his tips with incredible determination. He was dying to save up enough to get some big, beautiful piece from this artist and officially cross it off his bucket list. Jared had a pretty decent income, but quality tattooing cost real money, and the cost was directly linked to the size of the art and the demand for the artist. If Jensen’s roughly ninety-seven thousand followers were any indication, he was going to be expensive and the wait time for an appointment unbearably long, but Jared knew it’d be more than worth it. He relaxed into his seat, contentedly lost in his music and still scrolling through Jensen’s Instagram, his excitement increasing with every stop and go of the train bringing him closer to Jensen Ackles and Wayward Sails Tattoo.

 

\---

 

Jensen was hunched a little over his desk, one pencil in his hand and another tucked behind his ear, sharing the space with the black plastic arm of his glasses.  Boston was playing over the shop’s speakers as he sketched away, the light in his desk illuminating the drawing from below, making it easy to see his lines more clearly. He was knocking out a flash for a client coming in that day who wanted a couple peonies on their forearm and he was in his own world completely. He didn’t even hear the chime of the alarm system when the door to the shop opened and the other two artists of Wayward Sails Tattoo pulled it shut behind them.

“ _Jensen_!”

Danneel’s voice finally caught his attention, and he could tell from the way she stressed his full name and laughed that it hadn’t been the first thing she’d said to him. Jason just shook his head and chuckled under his breath. Jason had known him since they were kids and he knew how Jensen had the tendency to get lost in his own head.

“Hey, guys. Sorry. Good morning,” Jensen leaned back from his work to smile apologetically at his friends. He paused long enough to stretch his back a little and then drank down the last of his almost-cold coffee and replaced the empty cup on his side table.

“Yeah, morning, Jen.” Jason replied. He was setting his messenger bag down on his desk and starting to pull out sketchbooks and folders that he’d brought home with him the night before.

“Jen, how long have you been here?” Danneel came over to Jensen’s desk with a tray of coffees in her hand and swapped out Jensen’s empty cup for a full one like she always did, knowing he’d be ready for his second by the time she and Jason rolled in at 11 a.m. She then put her free hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to inspect the nearly finished sketch of peonies. There were two large ones, open and offset, and one smaller, budding flower; Jensen just needed to add a ribbon and some other details and it would be finished.

“Uh, well,” Jensen checked his watch. “I’ve been here since just after nine, I think?”

“Jesus, Jen.” It was Danneel’s turn to shake her head. “Ever heard of sleeping in? One of the perks of working at a tattoo shop: we don’t open until 11:30!”

“You know Jen, Danni,” Jason didn’t give Jensen a chance to answer for himself, joining in from the other side of the room at his work station. “He does his best work right here at his desk, preferably when you and I aren’t here to bother and annoy him and he can listen to his classic rock in peace.” He was grinning as he said it, in a tone of voice that clearly indicated that Jensen had uttered those very words himself on more than one occasion before. As further proof, Jensen didn’t argue but rather shot Jason a half-hearted scowl from over the rim of his glasses.

“Yeah, I know, Jason. It still just boggles my mind. No way I’d give up my mornings to sit in here by myself.” Danneel made it to her own area now, set down her purse on her tattoo bench, and started up their shared laptop.

“Danni, that’s only ‘cause you’re too busy living it up at night to get up at a half-decent hour.” Jensen smirked at her from behind his fresh coffee, and she pretended not to hear him, still facing away and going through their calendar for the day. “Thanks for the coffee,” Jensen added. She turned and smiled at him then.

“Welcome as always, Jen.”

Danneel took off her blazer as she got comfortable at the desk, and Jensen took her in for a moment. His friends could not look more different if they tried, their heavily tattooed skin the only obvious similarity between them.  Danneel was above average height for a woman, maybe 5’9, real slim, and had sleek, dark brown hair that hung just past her shoulders. She was always completely put-together, meticulously well-dressed, her nails perfectly manicured. Under the black blazer she’d already set on the back of her chair, she was wearing a flowy white silk tank top that was tucked into the front of her army-green skinny jeans, and it stood in a kind of breathtaking contrast to the bright colours of the tattoos that spread across her chest and down both arms. Jason, on the other hand, was a shade taller than Jensen’s 6’1, and had a thick, solid build. He also had a somewhat unruly head of brown hair and a beard that seemed to get longer and wilder every day. He was wearing boots and loose-fitting jeans and a red and black plaid shirt that, especially with the beard, made you think he was going start chopping down trees at any moment. Jason was as covered in tattoos as the average artist, including his neck above the collar of his shirt and the backs of his hands.

By comparison, Jensen almost looked out of place. He was dressed in soft black, well-fitted jeans, tan leather boat shoes and a crisp chambray shirt that was rolled at the sleeves. He had a beard too, but he kept it close and well-trimmed, and his golden brown hair he maintained in a tidy, short style. His black rimmed glasses were simple and a bit bookish in a way that he felt suited him, and the burgundy cardigan he’d been wearing because it was still cool when he left his apartment that morning was now folded neatly on his bench. He had no piercings and, dressed as he was, no visible tattoos. Of course, he did _have_ tattoos, just not many. He had two, to be exact - one of Jason’s, and the other one the mandatory self-ink he’d done before ever touching a needle to another person’s skin.

Jason was 3 years older than Jensen and had started tattooing when he was only 18 years old. He’d been lucky straight-out of high school - attributed in part to his persistence - and managed to get an apprenticeship with a really great veteran tattooer who’d been at it since before Jason was even born. By the time Jensen had graduated high school and was applying to post-secondary arts programs, Jason was already half-covered in tattoos and inking up other people under the instruction and supervision of his mentor. Four years later, Jensen had graduated with an Honours Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and had no idea what to do with himself, completely disinterested in giving it a go as a starving artist and done with school, at least for the moment. Enter childhood best friend Jason, taking over his mentor’s shop and looking to hire his own apprentice. They’d picked up Danneel along the way, meeting at a convention in L.A. and hitting it off so well that she joined them in New York, completing the family of Wayward Sails Tattoo.

Nearly a decade later, Jensen’s career had really taken off, his natural artistic inclination and professional training really elevating the skill of tattooing that Jason had taught him over their first couple years together at the shop. He was booked anywhere from 6 to 8 months in advance, depending on the day of the week for the desired appointment, and the shop never did any advertising whatsoever. It was all strictly word-of-mouth, between return clients and people who found him online and traveled from wherever to acquire some of his body art. His success had led him to do some travelling across the country and even into Europe for some conventions. He was exceptionally busy. Unlike Danneel and Jason, he was also a bit of a workaholic. Even on their Sunday/Monday offset weekend, Jensen was often on his own, immersed in his art, be it tattooing or otherwise. Jason was occasionally able to drag him to a bar if he was lucky, and sometimes got him to play guitar or sing on stage with him if he was even luckier. Danneel was a bit younger than them both, and undeniably gorgeous; she made friends easily and spent most nights in good company and often on a dance floor. Jason was married with a little girl at home, so when he wasn’t working or trying to drag Jensen out of his apartment, he was pretty preoccupied, too. Such were the lives of Jensen and the other Wayward Sails tattooers.

When they finally opened their doors at 11:30 - having swapped out Jensen’s playlist for some more current tunes - both Jason and Danneel’s clients had arrived and they got right down to business, the smells of disinfectant followed by the buzzing of the tattoo guns not long after. Jensen’s first appointment wasn’t until 12:30 so he set aside his finished flash and, sitting with a blank sheet before him, wondered at what he felt like drawing next. He was a little distracted though, the overlapping conversations from Jason’s and Danneel’s corners mingling with the familiar humming and creating the usual atmosphere of the shop. He was just starting to think about stepping out for coffee number three when the security system let out its little beep and the door of the shop opened. Jensen looked up at the sound, ready to answer questions or set up scheduling, as Jason and Danneel were already gloved up and busy working away.

In through the door walked quite easily one of the most attractive men Jensen had ever seen. He was wonderfully tall, must’ve been at least 6’4, and was visibly very fit. Jensen almost didn’t notice how his brown hair faded into green because his gorgeous face was, frankly, distracting. The guy looked a little tentative when he stepped into the shop, but he wore a small smile that Jensen found somehow disarming. He had a scattering of piercings, and tattoos on both arms that were really quite beautiful and well-done - Jensen was going to have to ask after who did them. But first things first: he cleared his throat - as much to snap himself out of it as anything - and stood up from his desk to walk over and greet the potential client.

“Hey man,” Jensen started casually. “What can I do for you?”

Tall Boy - what Jensen instinctively dubbed him - smiled largely, and Jensen was struck by how truly _beautiful_ he was.

“Hey, yeah, um, I’m looking for Jensen Ackles?” He scanned the shop quickly as he asked, clearly wondering which of the two men in the room might be the one he was looking for.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. That’s me, Jensen. Hi.” Jensen stuck out his hand and, after the briefest of moments, the guy took it and shook it enthusiastically.

“Oh, I’m Jared,” the guy answered, his smile somehow still growing. “Man, I’m sorry but I gotta fanboy for a minute. I just _love_ your work. I’ve been following you for ages and I had no idea you were local. I’ve been dying to come in and set something up with you.”

Jensen smiled back at him, unintentionally bashful, and the realization made him flush a little. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before from new people that came into the shop, but somehow this gorgeous guy - Jared - had gotten under his skin in the best possible way.

“That’s very, uh, well. Thank you, Jared. Thanks. Um, why don’t you, uh, have a seat on my bench, tell me what you’re thinking about.”

Danneel overheard the compliment and was surprised to hear Jensen sound so flustered in his response - it was very out of character. She lifted her needle up to glance over her shoulder at Jensen and the new client for the first time. She did a double take when she saw him. Her eyes went wide for a moment and then she quickly returned to the shoulder she was working on, a particular kind of smile on her lips.

“Sure, yeah, that sounds great, thanks.” Jared took the proffered seat, more leaning back against the bench, unlike the majority of clients who had to hop up to sit on it. Jensen moved back to his own chair, letting his eyes quickly roam over Jared, and _Jesus_ the guy had legs for days. He found himself swallowing thickly as he forced himself to look back at Jared’s face. It turned out that wasn’t so helpful; his eyes found Jared’s and he got a little lost. He couldn’t be sure what colour they were exactly, some sort of shifting mix of deep blues with greens and golds and-- was it just the light maybe? It had to be the sun or something. The moment dragged a second past what he knew to be acceptable and Jensen blinked, actually _looking_ at Jared now. Jared’s smile was somewhat sly, his head tilted slightly to one side, and, if Jensen wasn’t mistaken, he might’ve just caught Jared giving _him_ a once-over. He despised how his face warmed a shade. It was way past time to get this conversation moving along.

“So, Jared,” Jensen started, folding his arms across his chest and looking up - suddenly wishing he hadn’t sat down in the first place - at his prospective client. “What do you have in mind?” One side of Jared’s mouth went up in a kind of shy half-smile as he let out a soft laugh.

“Actually, man, I uh. I want whatever you want to give me.” He looked at Jensen with complete sincerity. It wasn’t the first time a client had given him free reign, but there was something about Jared… and well, damn if that hadn’t been a perfect line. Jensen knew Jared was talking tattoos, but he couldn’t help if his mind went there, not with all that gorgeous looking at him so intently from barely two feet away in his workspace. Jensen’s pause and subsequent smile must’ve been more revealing than he intended, because Jared’s face pinked noticeably and he opened his mouth to clarify.

“Uh, I mean, like, if you have anything you’ve been wanting to- huh.” He laughed at himself, and his head shook with it, his hair falling loose from where it had been nestled behind his ears. He brought both hands up to tuck it back into place. “I was thinking a chest piece.” Jared put his hands back down to the bench he was leaning on, looking a little relieved that he’d managed to get out something concrete as he let his eyes meet Jensen’s again.

“Okay,” Jensen nodded, and, trying for a professional gaze, let his eyes sweep across Jared’s chest - really, he was just checking his canvas, right? - which was showing its definition through the clearly well-loved t-shirt, pulled tight by his arms at his sides. “A chest piece. You got anything else there I need to work around, or…?”

“Uh, no,” Jared answered. “My arm, uh, the sleeve, just goes to my shoulder so… it’s all yours.”

Jensen breathed in with as much control as he could muster. Seriously, was this guy doing this on purpose, or was Jensen just rapidly losing his mind? _Tattoo, Jensen. Focus_.

“Well, with a chest piece, we’ve got lots of space to work with. You’ve been following my work, yeah? I mean, anything in particular that you’ve been drawn to, maybe give me a direction to go in?”

“Um, I hadn’t thought about anything specific, really. I’ve honestly just loved everything of yours that I’ve seen. Uh, you do really incredible wings, so. Maybe… there could be some worked in?” Jared looked hesitant to put any kind of parameters forward, as though he really just wanted Jensen to run with it. But wings were definitely up his alley; Jensen kind of specialized in them. He’d made a study of birds and wings in particular as part of his undergrad, and it had carried over without a doubt into his tattooing. Many of his clients sought him out for them specifically.

“Yeah, Jared. We can do that for sure.” Jensen looked over Jared’s exposed tattoos thoughtfully. “Listen, if you’re gonna let me do my own thing here, I’d like to get a sense of you, if that’s all right. Still wanna put something together that feels right for you, y’know? You’ve got some really good looking ink, man, some quality work. But I mean, what can you tell me about yourself? Give me something to work with.” Jensen reached for his Moleskine and a pencil from the corner of his desk to take some notes. This really was part of his process, but he would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t particularly interested in what Jared might choose to tell him. He was always fascinated by how people chose to describe themselves to him - a stranger - and he was definitely looking forward to Jared’s answers.

“Oh, um, me? Uh,” Jared’s smile was distinctly shy now. His eyes fell away from Jensen and he fidgeted, shifting his weight and tucking his already tucked hair behind his ears. It was the second time Jensen had seen him do that and it made his stomach flutter a little. He clenched his jaw and continued to look up at Jared over his glasses, hand poised over the blank page and ready to write.

“There’s not, uh, much to say. I mean, what- what do you want to know?”

Jensen let his expression soften, tried to put Jared at ease.

“That’s up to you, man. It can be pretty informative for me whatever you end up saying. If it helps, start with basic stuff. What do you do, what about your family…?” Jensen didn’t want to lead him, but he needed to start somewhere.

“Yeah, okay. Well, I tend bar mostly. Manage a bar. I’ve been there for years now and I really love it, actually. I’ve got a brother and sister I’m really close with, though they’re still back in Texas where we’re from, so, I uh, don’t get to see them as often as I’d like. I love to read, anything and everything really…” Jensen was adding keywords - _hardworker, siblings, family, away from home, reader, thinker, deep_ - as Jared talked, and nodded in encouragement for him to keep going.

“...Ok, um. Well, I studied English Lit at university. I went to school here in New York and stayed because, um, I felt like I belonged here more than in Texas, family notwithstanding. I love music, getting lost in it - Pearl Jam is one of my favourites,” Jared blushed with the acknowledgement, as if wearing their shirt wasn’t proof enough, “and I- I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to say.” He looked down at Jensen apologetically. Jensen was still scribbling - _studied, searching, making his way, rock, alternative_ \- and nodding.

“That’s okay, Jared. It’s good.” Jensen gave him a sincere look, and, as his eyes passed over Jared’s arms again, he added _traditional_ to his list. He contemplated the words a moment. “I’ve got enough to get me started.”

Jared looked relieved that he didn’t have to keep scrambling for things to say about himself. Jensen found himself wanting to know more, but he consoled himself with the promise of getting to spend an entire day together when it came time to ink the tattoo. Then he groaned inwardly at the thought. Inking this guy was going to be heaven and hell wrapped up in one - he was already itching to get his hands on him. _Christ_.

“So, um. When are you booking? I can only imagine how busy you must be…” Jared ventured. Jensen could tell he was holding his breath a little, clearly anxious to know how long he’d have to wait. Jensen sucked in his own breath. _Damn_. He was booking months in advance. His stomach sank for a moment. There was no way he wanted to wait months for this. _To hell with that_ \- he made his own schedule, didn’t he? Damn right, he did.

“Actually,” Jensen started, rolling his chair over to the laptop on Danneel’s desk, conveniently already open to their collective schedules, “I uh, recently had a cancellation. So, I might have something sooner rather than later, if you’re available…”

Danneel’s ears perked up; she had been half-listening to Jensen’s conversation over the whirring of her needle. She chanced another glance over her shoulder at Jensen and his client, pausing to grab some paper towel and wipe off her work-in-progress. Danneel knew better. Cancellation? What was Jensen on about? She couldn't stop herself from grinning widely, and she shook her head a little when she took in her friend’s face. Jensen was _so_ transparent. She couldn’t begin to remember the last time she’d seen him like this and she suddenly couldn’t wait for Mr. Tall-Built-and-Gorgeous to leave so she could give Jensen the gears and watch him get all flustered and defensive. He was usually so level-headed and cool; Danneel just loved seeing him derail even if only slightly.

“Oh, really? That- that’s great. Whenever it is, I’ll be here.” Jared’s face absolutely lit up at Jensen’s words. Jensen tried not to let Jared’s excitement go to his head as he made a show of browsing through his calendar for his ‘cancellation’. He’d already decided he was going to come in on a day off, so now he just had to pick which one. Next week was too soon, right? Too keen? _Shit_. He almost laughed at himself.

“Uh, yeah. Here it is. Not next Monday, but the following. So, two weeks from now. Is that too soon, or...?”

“God no, I- ,” Jared did laugh, cutting himself off. “It’s perfect.”

Jensen struggled to keep an even composure as he contentedly added Jared to his day. “If you wanna come in for noon, that should give us plenty of time.” His thoughts of ‘ _I don’t want to rush through this_ ’ he left unsaid. “As for the details, I’m one-fifty an hour, and for the chest?” Jensen quickly scanned Jared again, making some quick mental measurements. “You’re likely looking at about 8 hours, depending on how much detail we go for, colours, etcetera. Does that… sound reasonable to you?” Jensen always hesitated at this part, unsure as to how realistic his clients’ expectations of cost were. More than once he’d had someone tell him to shove it, which, generally, was fine with him. He didn’t need every Joe’s business to get by, but for a moment he seriously thought it might break his heart if Jared looked at him like some people did once their fanciful expectations were blown to pieces. When he peered over the laptop at Jared though, he was instantly reassured.

“Of course, yeah. Yeah, definitely. I, uh, brought cash to put down, so…” He reached around to get his wallet out of his back pocket. Jensen smiled. This was so easy. Jared was smart; this wasn’t his first time, and he knew how the process went. Jared held out a stack of green and Jensen took it with a quiet thank you, distracted by the jolt in his stomach when he let his fingers brush Jared’s hand in the exchange.

He counted it quickly behind the laptop. Jensen took their paper receipt pad from the top drawer of Danneel’s desk, quickly scrawled out the details, and asked Jared for his contact information. He tore off the yellow carbon copy and handed it back to him. Then he stood and leaned over to grab one of his business cards off the far front edge of the desk.

“Listen,” Jensen started, bending over the desk to write some numbers on the back of the card, “This is, uh, my cell number. I know you said I could do what I wanted, but if you think of anything between now and then that you just _have_ to have, just, text me, all right?”

He held it out to Jared, standing in front of him again for the first time since he came in, and he couldn’t help thinking that he kind of really liked having to look up at him.

Jared looked at Jensen’s outstretched hand as it held the card with his personal number on it with a momentary expression of almost reverence on his face. He took it and put it right into his wallet.

“Thanks, Jensen. Really. I meant it though - whatever you want.” He held Jensen’s gaze then with a soft, gently-dimpled smile and Jensen begrudged his stomach, which was betraying his attempts to hold it together by flipping over once or twice in response. A heavy moment passed between them and Jensen couldn’t find anything to say, knowing that this was the end of their interaction for today and wishing that it wasn’t. Jared finally cleared his throat.

“Well, I uh, I guess I’ll see you in a couple of weeks then. Thanks again, man. I’m really pumped.” Jared beamed and stuck out his hand for Jensen to shake, which he did gladly.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. Take care ‘til then, Jared.” He said it smoothly enough, but inside he felt like dropping his face to his desk. _Lock it up, Jensen. God_.

He was almost relieved when Jared let his hand go and turned to leave, if only because he wasn’t used to coming loose like he currently was, and it was starting to unsettle him. It’d been a long time since anyone caught his eye, and certainly even longer since he’d been reduced to stuttering his way through common conversation. He couldn’t help that he stared after Jared as he left - _that ass, though_ \- and he _might_ have stood there looking for a long moment after the door closed behind him. He let out a sigh and wondered what on Earth he was getting into. Then he heard movement from behind him where Danneel was working, heard her tell her client to take five, and braced himself for the ribbing he knew was coming; she was _never_ going to let him hear the end of this.

 

\---

 

Jensen was nothing like Jared had expected. Honestly, he didn’t know what he had expected, having never seen a picture of the guy on his Instagram. But damn if he wasn’t just stunning. Jared was in bed, his day off at its end, the blinds of his big windows still open so he could see the moon and stars from where he was sprawled out. He was shamelessly flipping Jensen’s business card through the fingers of one hand, the other lying open on his stomach under his shirt.  He couldn’t believe his luck; he was able to go in and get his ink in just two short weeks. _He’d get to see Jensen again in two weeks_. He couldn’t seem to get Jensen’s piercing green eyes out of his head. It had been hard enough to keep _his_ eyes off Jensen while they’d been chatting. The guy was straight up distracting. He had these lips…

Jared let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He let the hand holding Jensen’s card fall back to the bed above his head, and the other… He couldn’t resist if he tried. The hand on his stomach he let slide down, and it slipped under the loose waistband of his untied sweatpants. When his fingers found their way around his dick, it was already half-hard, as it had been on-and-off for the rest of the day after he’d left Wayward Sails Tattoo. Jared had not been able to stop thinking about Jensen all day. The guy was gorgeous, and he was so… clean-cut. It had been surprising and Jared let his imagination wonder at what badass ink he just knew Jensen had to have hiding under that perfectly-ironed shirt and across that tempting skin of his. The thoughts stiffened him rapidly and before long Jared had moved on from gentle rubs and had started fisting his shaft in earnest. _Shit, those lips_. Jared could just picture them, spit-slick and stretched out around the base of his cock, Jensen’s pretty face flushed and full of him, looking up at him with those _fucking amazing eyes_. Jared moaned at the image, tightened his grip and started to twist his wrist on every upstroke. His hips were starting to get into it now too, and he was properly fucking into his hand as he tried to imagine what incredible sounds he could coax out of Jensen if given the chance, if he really did have his cock shoved deep into that beautiful face, slamming into the back of Jensen’s throat and feeling the hot, wet suck of his mouth. His orgasm snuck up out of nowhere, hitting him hard and knocking the breath out of him in a long, loud moan that sounded a hell of a lot like ‘Jensen’ all rough and strung out. He shuddered his way through it, warm come spilling over his hand and filling his pants and _fuck_. He slowed his strokes and loosened his grip, teasing out the last waves of his release, the softening, now sticky skin starting to feel over-sensitive to his touch. Jared lay still, red-faced and panting, a sheen of sweat clinging to his skin and pooling a little in the hollow of his neck. Lazily, he tugged his shirt off and shed his sweats. He used the shirt to wipe himself off and uncaringly tossed the soiled clothes onto his floor.

Jared rolled onto his stomach with a contented groan, sliding his arms up and under his pillow, hugging it to him. Jensen’s business card he left sitting on the corner of the mattress, the fingers of one hand still unconsciously touching the edge. Sleep was moving in fast, shutting down Jared’s brain and narrowing his thoughts. He drifted off quickly, a smile on his face and Jensen’s name the last sound from his mouth.

 

\---

 

Jensen wasn’t sure if he was regretting his decision to try working on Jared’s tattoo at home as opposed to the office. He was getting nowhere fast. Jason had accurately been throwing his own words back in his face when he said the other day that Jensen did his best work alone in the shop without him or Danneel there to bother him. But the thing about this… Jared had completely gotten to him. Five minutes with the guy and Jensen had come embarrassingly undone. Somehow he felt possessive of the work, like he wasn’t prepared to put together whatever it would be for Jared in the public, shared space of the shop. Not to mention that Danneel hadn’t let up since the guy had left, making Jensen even less keen to be there at the moment. She was constantly poking at him, teasing him because she couldn’t believe - no wait, she could because Jensen was _so adorable_ \- that he was coming in on a day off.

 _Couldn’t wait to see him again, huh? Could’ve just asked him out, Jensen. Oh, you wanted be alone with him, didn’t you? Gonna feel him up on your table, Jen? You totally are, aren’t you?! Well, shit. You are so far gone, don’t even pretend_.

He groaned remembering her pestering, rubbing his hands back through his hair in exasperation. Of course, she wasn’t wrong. Jensen knew it, and Danneel knew he knew it, and it only made her more persistent. Jason stayed well out of it - he knew better; only Danneel could get away with that crap - but Jensen had seen them exchanging looks whenever Jared came up (which was often, thanks to Danneel).  

Jensen was staring at a blank piece of paper laid out on his home workstation for the umpteenth time in the last few days. The two weeks had flown by, and he was down to the wire - the last night before Jared’s appointment, and still, he had nothing. He’d lost track at this point of how many attempts he’d already crumpled up in frustration and tossed in the recycling. He was more invested in this than he cared to admit; he wanted this tattoo to be just right, wanted it to be perfect for Jared. He struggled trying to think of something he could put together that would be appropriately beautiful so as to be worthy of the man it was going to mark forever.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous. Get a grip, Ackles.” He spoke aloud to himself, taking off his glasses and setting them on the desk next to his untouched pencil. His elbows on the desk, he put his face roughly in his hands and pinched at the bridge of his nose. Sighing, he stood up and made his way to the kitchen where he would hopefully find some inspiration in some fresh espresso. He set a mug under the dispenser and hit the button, stretching his arms, shoulders, and back as he listened to the mechanic clicks and hums as it worked its magic.

At the moment, the only lights on in his apartment were those under the cabinets in his kitchen and the lamp on his desk. The sun was mostly set and he was comfortable in the almost-darkness. His favourite playlist was streaming via bluetooth to a speaker on the counter, and Jensen sang along to _Bad Moon Rising_ under his breath as he picked up his coffee and meandered back into his living room. He was pacing a little, just trying to give his legs and brain a break from sitting and thinking - about art, about Jared. Not that he had successfully managed to avoid thoughts of Jared much at all since the moment he walked into Jensen’s shop.

He sipped at his drink, closing his eyes as the liquid warmed his throat, and Jared’s dimpled smile immediately came to mind. Jensen gave in for just a moment, let himself think about Jared’s pretty lips and what it might be like to kiss them. Zeppelin’s _Over the Hills and Far Away_ started issuing from the speaker and Jensen leaned forward, resting his forehead on the edge of the bookshelf in front of him, swaying a little with the acoustic guitar. He lazily opened his eyes as the song picked up and looked down at his mug, still in his hand but sitting on a lower shelf. He rolled his head a little from side to side, wondering realistically how awkward Jared’s sitting was going to be if he kept indulging thoughts like these, when his eyes fell on one of his large portfolios where it was propped up against the bottom of the bookcase. He blinked at it a moment. It was where he stashed most of his private art. It had a little of everything: art from his university days that he was too proud of to have sold or given away, paintings he’d done recently, and a variety of tattoo flash - finished or in progress - that came from places or inspiration a little on the personal side, so he kept them for himself.

A particular piece came to mind instantly. He hurriedly bent to pick up the portfolio and moved to the open space of the living room to open and flip through it. Kneeling on the floor, he carefully sifted through the various works when - _Aha!_ There it was. Not one-hundred percent finished, but he would get it done. Looking at it now, it just felt _right_. His cheeks warmed a little at the thought. Jensen had always thought of this design as the perfect complement to the one he wore on his back, the one that he and Jason had designed together and Jason had given him after he signed on with him at the shop. If Jensen’s tattoo was a bit dark and borne as a reminder, perhaps a warning, then this was its opposite in every way; with some similar elements, it certainly stemmed from the same place for Jensen, but this was all lightness and hope and somehow _protection_. It made his heart a little tight to think of how badly he wanted to make this his mark on Jared. A part of him thought he should maybe be a bit disconcerted but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way. _Besides_ , he rationalized. _It’s not like Jared will know how tied it is to mine_. All symbolism and personal attachments aside, Jensen did just always love this design. It was a beautiful tattoo and it would look incredible on Jared. Without another moment’s consideration, Jensen took the partially finished work from the portfolio and brought it to his workstation. His coffee was abandoned and forgotten on the bookcase, the darkness outside had deepened into the fullness of nighttime, and Jensen set to work as the gentle sounds of Pink Floyd’s _Wish You Were Here_ filled the air.

 

\---

 

Jensen was puttering somewhat anxiously around the shop. Not the bad kind of anxious, far from any feelings of dread or worry, but instead the kind of eagerness and anticipation that kept a person awake at night in the best kind of way. Which it had, of course, kept Jensen awake. Most of the night he had been up, worrying over every last detail of Jared's tattoo, pouring over it to ensure it was absolutely perfect. He’d tried to get some sleep but it was short and light at best, and inescapably filled with dreams of Jared that had left him flushed and smiling, completely unbothered by the lack of quality shut-eye. He’d given up trying to sleep when the sun rose and light started to creep in his windows before six that morning. When he’d gone to his usual coffee joint on his way to work, the barista pointed out that he was unusually early, even for him. He could only smile back at her as he took his coffee, tucking his leather portfolio safely under his arm.

He was already on his third cup as he made sure the shop was pristine and everything was in order for Jared's appointment. He’d cleaned all the surfaces more times than were necessary, tidied all the bookshelves and art supplies and loose ends until everything was immaculate. He’d still had time so he got his workspace ready, lining his tray with ink wells, fastening them with petroleum jelly into two perfectly straight rows. He wrapped up his tattoo bench and taped everything down tightly, placed a freshly laundered pillow at the head of it and tried not to get distracted thinking about how soon Jared would be laid out and shirtless in front of him on that very surface.

Everything in order and then some, Jensen still had time to spare and sipped at his coffee absentmindedly as he paced throughout the shop. He went to change the playlist on his phone where it was plugged into the laptop just as it chimed with the receipt of a new message. It was from Danneel: _Have fun today, Jen. Remember to actually tattoo the guy ;)_. Jensen rolled his eyes and scoffed to himself, but he smiled despite it. He contemplated replying for a moment, but thought it would be better to leave her hanging. She could wonder all she liked; Jensen wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of a response. Jensen closed the message screen and hit play on his music, the Doobie Brothers’ _Black Water_ starting up over the speakers. He checked the clock on the wall by the front door - still only 11:30. He relaxed into the soothing rhythm of the music, his pacing becoming something akin to dancing; he lost himself in the folky violin, releasing any remaining anxiety and finding an easy calm as he waited out the minutes until Jared’s arrival.

 

\---

 

Jared spent a little extra time on everything that morning. He woke early, excitement once again responsible, so he was in no rush. He did more than his usual workout, knowing he’d have to take a few days off while the tattoo healed, and he was in no hurry to speed through his subsequent shower, either. He tossed his sweat-soaked clothes in the hamper behind the door and took out the knot he’d tied his hair in to keep it out of his eyes before stepping into the shower. Besides the big windows, the shower was the main reason he had chosen this particular apartment. All in all, the place was average sized and nothing special for a bachelor, but the shower was plenty big and Jared loved that he didn’t have to stoop to stand fully under the spray.

He let himself dwell there - long after he’d gotten clean and washed and conditioned his hair - in the warm and fresh smelling air, indulging in easy images of the beautiful boy with the viridian eyes that had been stuck in his head for two straight weeks. His hands lingered over his bare chest, and he could feel his heart beating in rapid anticipation of having Jensen's hands there instead, to have his mark there forever. He sighed at the thought, trying to ignore his dick as it twitched between his legs, getting heavier by the second, and he let his face fall into the steady stream of water. He slid both hands through his hair to keep it out of his face and out of habit toyed with the ring at the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

One of the things Jared had always enjoyed about his job tending bar was that he had a good view of more than a few pretty faces, and being the one with the booze meant he got his fair share of attention without even trying. He never had to work particularly hard at flirting, and he was used to being hit on, letting himself get picked up if he felt so inclined. If he was being honest though, it wasn’t something he let happen much these days. When he was younger sure, but he’d really outgrown that inclination, and after his last, more serious relationship had crashed and burned - rather spectacularly - he’d been more tentative and reserved than ever before, content in the company of his longtime friends and their partners who’d become a part of their circle like they’d somehow always been there. Jensen was the first person in… well, a long time, who’d caught his attention and, after having their brief interaction play on repeat in his mind ever since, Jared determined that he had to at least _try_ to do something about it. In the meantime though, Jared did something about himself, impossibly hard and aching for Jensen like he had been since meeting him, and he spent a little extra time on that, too.

 

\---

 

By the time the clock by the door read 11:58, Jensen was relaxed and wasting time perusing Instagram on the shop’s laptop. While the thought that Jared was going to walk in the shop at any moment did give a momentary sensation of butterflies in his stomach, Jensen was still comfortable, felt in control, and had convinced himself that this was going to be like any other day and any other client.

Then there was a knock at the door, and Jared was standing outside with a coffee and that blinding, dimpled smile that Jensen had been thinking about nonstop. _Same as any other client, my ass_ , he thought sardonically as he jumped up to let Jared in.

 

\---

 

Jared had been surprised to find the door locked when he tried it. For a split second, his stomach sank and he worried he had somehow confused the date, but then he spied Jensen through the glass. He was sitting at the laptop, intently reading something on the screen, and he was drumming distractedly on the desk with his hands. Jensen looked every bit as beautiful as Jared remembered, everything about him still neat, but today he was wearing light coloured jeans and a navy v-neck. Jared’s eyes immediately fell to Jensen’s arms. Apart from being nicely muscled, Jared could see the ends of a tattoo: dark-tipped, feathered wings peeking out past the edges of the short sleeves. The sight of it made Jared grin. He couldn’t help the twinge of excitement that flared low in his stomach, hoping he might find a way to see more of whatever was teasing him there. As he continued to sit there, in his own little world, it was clear that Jensen hadn’t heard him try the door, so Jared rapped his knuckles against the glass.

Jensen looked up over the laptop towards the door and, smiling, Jared waved. Jensen looked apologetic and was out of his seat that instant. Jared watched him twist the lock and heard it click, then Jensen held open the door for him to step inside.

“Hey, Jared! Sorry, man. Come on in,” Jensen closed the door behind Jared and he thought he heard him click the lock again.

“Not a problem! Good to see you, Jensen. How are things?” Jared followed Jensen to his station and noticed that the other tattooers who had been there last time were nowhere to be seen, their workstations tidy and unoccupied.

“Things are good, man, really good. How about you?” Jensen was pulling a folder out of the portfolio on the desk and looked back at Jared over his shoulder.

“Great, really. Can’t complain. I’m uh,” Jared’s smile widened, his dimples deepening. “I’m really excited to be here.”

Jensen had turned to face him, the folder in his hands, and finding Jared’s eyes, he smiled back in a way that made Jared feel - just maybe - a little weak in the knees.

“I’m excited to show you what I’ve got for you,” Jensen’s voice was genuinely eager, and he gestured for Jared to come take a look as he laid the folder on the open space of the desk. “I hope… I hope it’s not- let me know if I totally missed the mark, okay?”

Jared moved to stand next to Jensen and opened his mouth to say he was sure he’d love whatever Jensen put together, but before he could make a sound Jensen had opened the folder and Jared’s eyes found the art - _his_ art. All he could do was stare, awestruck.

In the very centre was a tall ship, multiple masts and many sails, looking absolutely elegant. It was riding waves that bore a banner like a ribbon beneath them and the words ‘safe home’ were written there. The ship itself was highlighted against a bright sphere, a rising or setting sun, and roses enveloped its edges. Then, from behind the flowers, as if embracing the whole vignette of the sailing ship, were two magnificent wings, their feathers coming up to round and fill the design and also spreading out to either side, ensuring it would fill the space of his chest completely. It was beautiful and more perfect than anything Jared could have hoped for.

Jared must have gotten lost looking at Jensen’s work because Jensen’s voice very timidly broke into his thoughts.

“Is it… is it okay?”

Jared blinked to wrench his eyes from the paper and looked at Jensen where he stood immediately next to him. Jensen’s face was tight and tentative and Jared could tell he was trying for neutral but he could see that he was worried. His bright, hunter green eyes were searching Jared’s and he finally snapped out of his wordless stupor.

“Is it o- Jensen, it’s _perfect_. I just. I absolutely love it. I can’t believe you did this for me.” Jared reached out to grasp Jensen’s shoulder, firmly holding his gaze and positively beaming at him. He didn’t censor his praise; he wanted Jensen to know just how much he meant it, how sincerely he loved the design. Jensen breathed a sigh of relief then, blinking in a mild surprise as Jared’s hand rose with the movement of his shoulders. Jared noticed that he flushed a little too, and that created a kind of echo low in Jared’s stomach.

“I’m so glad you like it,” Jensen looked almost shy as he smiled at Jared then, and he had these happy crinkles at his eyes that Jared suddenly wanted to touch. He fought the impulse by giving his shoulder a tight squeeze before removing his hand to tuck a loose strand of his own hair behind his ear instead.

“Well,” Jensen continued, picking up his coffee cup and moving towards his bench, “I’ve got the template all ready to go. Why don’t you set your coffee down, uh, here, where you’ll be able to reach it, and hop on up.”

Jared could tell Jensen was focused now, his attention on all the things he needed to do. Jared hardly needed to hop to get onto the bench, sliding onto it easily and bringing his legs up as he sat there, quietly watching Jensen as he got ready. He pushed his glasses high up on the bridge of his nose before he grabbed the polyurethane gloves and tugged them on his hands. He opened a nearby cupboard to pull out a bottle of black ink and he poured it into half of the little wells where they were ready and waiting on his table.

“You can uh, go ahead. With your shirt, I mean,” Jensen didn’t look at Jared as he said it, busying himself on his phone, which had a protective plastic screen overtop so he could keep touching it without contaminating his gloves. Jared could swear the tips of Jensen’s ears went slightly pink. As Jensen continued with his phone, the music stopped and the shop was quiet for a moment.

Jared deftly unbuttoned his black and white plaid shirt, taking it off quickly and leaned over to drape it on the back of the nearest chair, already bearing a sweatshirt that must belong to Jensen. His skin prickled with goosebumps at the contact with the air, or maybe the anticipated attention, he couldn’t tell for sure; more than likely it was both. Then the music started up again and Jared immediately recognized the opening notes of Pearl Jam’s _Just Breathe_. His heart swelled and he couldn’t help the way he looked at Jensen then. When Jensen turned back to Jared and caught the look, he let out a small, breathy laugh and the sweetest smile Jared had ever seen.

“I um, remembered you said they were your favourite. It’s just a random mix on Songza, Pearl Jam and friends, you know? Thought it might make a half-decent distraction once we get going here.”

“Thanks.” Jared didn’t trust himself to say another word. He was pretty sure he was falling in love.

Jensen had a container of cleanser in one hand and a razor in the other, not that Jared had noticed, what with the distraction of his beautiful face, and the lyrics of the song streaming over the speakers: _Stay with me… You’re all I see..._

“If you want to lay back, Jared, I’m just gonna get you ready.”

“Sure.” Jared tuned back in and leaned back onto the bench, wrestling the the pillow to get it centred underneath his head. When he put his hands back at his sides Jensen was standing over him.

“Guess I won’t be needing this then,” Jensen smirked as he took in Jared’s bare chest, noticing that Jared had already gone to the trouble of shaving it.

“Yeah,” Jared laughed a little. “I figured it’d just be easier if I did that this morning.”

Jensen swapped out the razor for a cotton ball. He sprayed Jared’s chest with the cleanser and used the cotton ball to rub it in and wipe him off. After he was clean, though still a bit damp, Jensen tossed the cotton in the trash and put down the cleanser so he could use both hands to pick up the template that was waiting on his desk.

“Okay, Jared, just. Stay perfectly still for me. Gonna see if I can get this straight on the first try…” He was very focused as he approached Jared with the design, leaning over and studying the lines of Jared’s chest intently, searching for centre as he brought the paper down closer to his skin. Jared kept his eyes staring straight up at the ceiling, trying to breathe slowly and keep his chest still. Jensen hovered there for quite a while, studying the placement and comparing the lines on the tattoo to the curves in Jared’s muscles and the valleys of his collarbone, taking everything in from different angles, as precise as possible. After some time he finally pressed down the template, applying even pressure and smoothing his hands over it completely to make sure the stencil was transferred in full. Jared suppressed a shiver as Jensen rubbed his palms over his chest, pressing down on the template, and his skin warmed under the touch, his stiffening nipples betraying his pleasure at the attention. When he was satisfied that the design was evenly placed, Jensen flicked up the edge of the paper and peeled it off in one steady, practiced motion.

“Alright, Jared. If you wanna get up, go stand by that mirror, you can make sure you’re good with the placement. I’m going to make sure it’s where I want it to be, too.”

Jared moved before the mirror quickly and couldn’t help grinning as he took in the sight. It was only the basic lines of the tattoo, but he was crazy for it already. The design covered his chest completely, a perfect fit. The bottom edges of the tattoo skimmed just above his nipples on either side; the top line of the sun sat about an inch below the hollow of his neck and the wings spread out on either side, covering his pecs entirely with the tips tapering off just before his shoulders met the rest of his body. When he finally took his eyes off of it, he looked up at Jensen’s reflection. He was scrutinizing the lines intensely, one arm folded across his chest and the other at his face, his hand rubbing at his jaw.

“Turn and face me,” he said. Jared did as he was bidden. He lifted his arms a few times as Jensen contemplated the fit, examining it thoroughly before nodding his approval. “Got lucky on our first try, Jared. I think it’s perfect. Go ahead and lay back down. We’ll get started.”

“Awesome.” Jared could barely contain his excitement as he settled back on the bench, still grinning widely. Jensen took his place on his stool and started fiddling with the needle. It wasn’t long before his foot was on the pedal and the familiar buzzing filled the air, fighting with the sounds of the playlist Jensen had chosen just for Jared. The sound of the machine coaxed a Pavlovian response from Jared, his heart rate picking up and his body feeling tight with anticipation. Jared took a deep, steadying breath and forced his body to relax. Jensen placed one hand on his side, the other bringing the needle to his skin, and Jared smiled into the pain.

 

\---

 

Jensen was working on the lines of the roses, starting on the fleshier parts of Jared’s chest to ease into it, saving the thinner, boney bits for next, giving Jared a chance to adjust to the pain. Seeing Jared again had definitely thrown him for a loop despite all his mental preparation. The guy was every bit as breathtaking as he’d remembered, today wearing his Chucks with jeans, and a black and white plaid button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows (that, Jensen thought smugly, was now draped next to his own sweater, leaving Jared in all his bare-chested glory) - all of which was nothing in the shadow of that incredible smile, the ring at the bottom right corner glinting as it moved with his lips. Jensen stole a quick glance at it again as he worked, remembering how desperately he wanted to tug at it with his teeth.

He’d had to pull himself together of course, and he did, though honestly only just. His reveal of Jared’s art was the most nervous he could remember having been since the final showing of his art in University, upon which depended his graduation. Jared’s obvious enthusiasm for Jensen’s presentation made his heart feel big in the best way, not to mention how it had leapt when Jared squeezed his shoulder. He’d known in that moment that Jared’s tattoo was vastly different from the rest of the art he’d put out into the world on innumerable walking canvases, because this was like his other half; when he thought of his own ink, he would forever remember this beautiful boy. He truly was giving away a piece of himself. It made his stomach flutter and his mind reel a little. He was at a loss. _How in the world was he supposed to tattoo this guy and then just let him walk out of his life?_

The way his heart raced when Jared took off his shirt on Jensen’s table, Jensen had started to worry seriously about his ability to focus on the actual work. Jared was all kinds of fit, miles of smooth skin over taut muscle that Jensen ached to touch. He was absolutely relieved to find that, when they finally got started and Jared was all stretched out for him, he was able to slip into his familiar professional headspace and focus entirely on his job. Okay, well, maybe not _entirely_ , but close enough. Enough to forget, at least for the most part, that he was touching that glorious expanse of skin, even if it was through the barrier of his sterilized gloves. Jared was pretty quiet, but every once in a while he’d let out a quiet hiss or suck in a quick breath, and Jensen was definitely listening, maybe loving the sounds a little more than he should. More than once already Jensen had given a sideways glance to Jared’s face on his left and had seen him, eyes closed against the pain, mouthing the words to whatever Pearl Jam song was playing over the speakers. It made Jensen smile into his work. He had worried he was pushing it, putting on the playlist for Jared. He’d felt himself flush all the way to tips of his ears when he put it on, but Jared seemed - like with everything, really - pleased and maybe even a little touched.

Jensen eventually broached the subject of Jared’s love for Pearl Jam. He was never sure which clients wanted to sit quietly and cope with the pain, trying to remain as mentally far away as possible, and which ones wanted to chat through it. Turned out Jared was all for talking - for which Jensen was very thankful - and he had no shortage of love for and things to say about his favourite band and the many times he’d seen them in concert over the years. It was easy listening for Jensen, who didn’t like or dislike the band in particular - he had a few songs he definitely enjoyed - and it was endearing how Jared’s face lit up when he talked about it, his voice filled with genuine excitement and unrestrained passion. If he wasn’t absolutely taken with Jared before, he was well on his way now - and then Jared had to go and ask Jensen about what kind of music _he_ liked. Jensen was hesitant to dwell on his love of classic rock, but Jared prompted him, asking questions and gushing when an artist or song he knew or loved too came up in the conversation.

Jensen learned about Jared’s family back in Texas, his brother and his sister - who wrote children’s books - all of them loving language and reading from an early age on account of their mother, who was an English teacher. He learned that Jared loved dogs, having grown up with them, but hadn’t had the courage to get one for himself just yet. Jensen answered Jared’s questions, too, talking about his art degree and how Jason got him into tattooing. He explained to Jared that, though he never would have imagined his life heading in that direction, he’s pretty happy with it now that it has; he couldn’t picture himself doing anything else. _Except maybe with you_. The thought crossed his mind unbidden, and Jensen bit his lip subconsciously, focusing his attention back on the lines of the ship. Jared didn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly content to think on the happy turn of Jensen’s life, laying back with an easy smile.

“So, the design you put together for me…” Jared started. “You really got it from the few things I told you about myself?” The question was gentle, earnest, and certainly didn’t sound like a challenge. Jensen couldn’t help it; he felt himself blush for the God-only-knows-what time that day, and he was thankful Jared couldn’t really see his face from where he was lying and where Jensen was working.

“Um, well. Yeah, actually. It’s like,” Jensen paused as he followed a line intently, keeping straight and steady. “I try to take away more abstract ideas and feelings when clients tell me about themselves. You mentioned that you were away from home… I got the impression that it’s a bit like you’re making a way for yourself, though you still think of the family that you love and miss. You’re brave, obviously comfortable being who you are, able to strike out on your own. The nautical themes came to me easily then, the adventure, the discovery. Roses of course are enduring, traditional. They’re beautiful.” _Like you_. Jensen cleared his throat a little, wiping at the finished sail to clear away the ink and blood before moving on. “You’re also educated, and between the reading and the English major, it’s not a stretch to imagine you as intellectual, probably quite the thinker. Um, and,” Jensen tried not to hesitate as he continued. He had to remind himself that Jared didn’t know about his tattoo, so he shouldn’t be so… whatever he was being about it. “There’s this poem, actually-”

“The Rime of the Ancient Mariner?” Jared offered.

Jensen blinked. For a moment it felt like being called out, but that melted away almost immediately to be replaced by other feelings entirely, namely that he was so wrong if he thought Jared couldn’t get more attractive, because he absolutely just did.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, Coleridge. Man, I shouldn’t be surprised. Not with your degree,” Jensen laughed a little, mostly at himself. He should’ve known.

“It’s one of my favourites, for that time period especially. Your design actually made me think of it. You’re saying that was intentional?”

Jensen could _hear_ Jared smiling, even without looking at him, which he was deliberately not doing. He was trying desperately to find some collection of at least half-intelligent words.

“Well, not intentional in that… Well. The poem is pretty dark, but I wanted to take all the lightness from it - The hope, the luck, the protection. The wings I wanted to colour with greys and blacks and indigo highlights… like the albatross. Not for the bad, not the mistakes or the weight of them, but rather it would be your… for good fortune. For your journey. The ‘safe home’ is a East Coast expression, a farewell. I thought it fitting since you are are still maybe searching for or creating your home, and I wanted it to counter the darker aspects of the poem; that your albatross is like a safeguard, to… help you get there, wherever ‘there’ is.”   

Jensen hated that it felt like his heart was in his throat. He kept wiping at the tattoo, cleaning off the mix of excess liquid in his way, and focused on another line, refusing to look at Jared and give away more than he already was.

“Jensen, it- it’s perfect. I-” Jared chuckled softly, maybe to himself. “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think I could love it more, but I do. Really, thank you.”

There was something in Jared’s voice that made Jensen pause. He forced himself to sit up and look over at Jared. Their eyes met and Jensen’s mouth went dry; a shiver rolled down his back. He swallowed thickly as the moment went on. He aimed for humour.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. We’ve got a ways to go and who knows how this’ll turn out.” He winked at Jared and wagged his eyebrows at him.

Jared laughed, his smile open and bright, and Jensen knew beyond a doubt he wanted more of that sound and that smile in life. He fought a little panic at the thought. Jensen was shy - always had been - and he wasn’t sure he could remember a time when he had ever been the initiator in a relationship. He was always the one pursued, or more often than not nowadays, set up with one of Danneel’s friends. Not that any of those had gone well. All of a sudden, Jensen was afraid he might have to figure out a way to work up some courage for this, lest he lose the opportunity forever. _There’s a first time for everything_ , he guessed. He chanced a look at his watch and realized with a start that they’d been tattooing almost 3 hours. He let his eyes pass over Jared - professionally, honestly - and noted he was a bit pale, maybe a little clammy. He didn’t show discomfort or fatigue in the features of his face, but Jensen was aware you didn’t maintain a figure like Jared’s without steady sustenance. And Jensen was _always_ ready for more coffee.

“Listen, Jared, let’s take a short break. You can stretch out a bit, do whatever. I’m gonna make some coffee, and you’re more than welcome to some as well. I’ve got some goodies too, if you need a little something extra for your blood sugar.”

By this time, Jensen had stripped off his gloves and tossed them in the garbage. He was standing and stretching out his own back and shoulders with an assortment of accompanying clicks and cracks and pops as he moved and pulled. Jared had sat up, too, and he was looking slightly unsteady like he maybe sat up a little too fast. He seemed to have perked up while Jensen was talking though.

“Always yes to coffee,” he grinned. “And… um, what kind of goodies?” The intrigued look he gave Jensen made him laugh outright.

“Baked goodies. They’re from the place where I get my coffee. Tasty, homemade stuff. C’mon, you can help yourself.”

Jared slid off the bench to follow, and Jensen looked back at him from their little coffee station/kitchen nook to see Jared looking down at the fresh lines on his chest with unmasked delight.

 

\---

 

Jared happily wolfed down the chocolate croissant that he’d pulled from the box of bakery items Jensen had offered him. Jensen had taken out a butter tart for himself, eating it while he waited for the coffee to brew, leaning against the counter and occasionally eyeing Jared where he stood before the mirror blatantly pouring over the in-progress tattoo. Jared was loving how it was shaping up, and content to look over the line work while they took a break, if for no other reason than that doing so would keep him from staring at Jensen, off whom he could barely keep his eyes. He chanced a look in the artist’s direction at exactly the wrong/right time, catching him slipping the ends of his sticky sugar coated fingers in his mouth to suck them clean. Jared tried not to gape as Jensen wiped his hands on a napkin and turned to busy himself with the coffee, which was now ready, giving Jared another wonderful view entirely. He let his eyes skirt over the visible parts of Jensen’s tattoo, wondering what other designs might accompany what were surely very beautiful wings, before his gaze drifted down the line of Jensen’s back, following it down and resting on his ass. Jared was feeling so good - high as a kite with the progress of the tattoo that he loved and the company of this gorgeous guy he was starting to adore - he couldn't even bring himself to be bothered when Jensen turned around then to ask him how he took his coffee and caught him checking him out. Jensen stuttered on his question for just a moment, and Jared couldn’t tell if it was because he’d seen where Jared was looking or because of the way Jared intentionally looked at him after, meeting the perfect green of his eyes with all the soft innocence he could muster.

“Do you- uh,” he flushed. He’d been doing it _all_ day and Jared was loving it; seeing Jensen’s pretty face go one of many shades of pink was officially on his list of favourite things, which, as the day wore on, contained an ever increasing number of Jensen-related items. Not only was it incredibly endearing, but it was helping Jared entertain some real hope that when he managed to get his shit together and put a move on Jensen it might _actually_ go well. “Do you take anything in your coffee?”

“Nah, black is great, thanks.”

Jensen smiled and turned back to the coffee, grabbing a full mug and handing it to Jared. Jared deliberately brushed his fingers over Jensen’s as he took it, his other hand holding the mug from the bottom. The contact was electric, sending gentle waves through Jared’s body that he wished would never stop. He was hyper-aware of Jensen and everywhere their skin connected; even the pain during inking was hardly sufficient to distract Jared from the pressure of the pads of Jensen’s fingers on his free hand wherever it lay on his body - his side, chest, collar bone, sometimes dangerously close to his nipples. Jared was equal parts resentful of the barrier of Jensen’s gloves between them and thankful for it, for the same reason that he was thankful Jensen was working close to his face and seemed to be very focused while tattooing, hardly even looking up while they chatted; Jared had been mentally wrestling for control of his blood flow the whole while, his dick selfishly wanting to hog it all despite the sharp burning pains of the needle and it being decidedly _not_ the right time.

Of course now they were both sipping their coffees in silence, with very few distractions, so Jared might have been watching Jensen’s mouth on the rim of the cup a little more intently than he meant to. When the thought occurred to him, he quickly set down his own coffee and excused himself to the washroom. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Jared slumped back against it, closing his eyes. He knew without a doubt that if Jensen wasn’t interested in him he would be more than crushed; the admission raised the stakes to somewhere near unbearable. These feelings had built up so much over the last two weeks, he’d been filled with a kind of strung-out anticipation, and it was more fully realized with every passing moment in Jensen’s presence. He _had_ to get through this tattoo before he could try though, so if it didn’t go his way he could tuck tail and get out of there. That said, getting through this was proving more difficult than he’d imagined it would be. He felt like a freaking teenager, getting hard on practically a whim, with almost every little thing Jensen was doing. He’d almost give anything to turn off his brain just so he could get through this without any truly embarrassing episodes involving his completely traitorous cock which seemed determined to out him.

Jared managed to talk himself down without too much trouble, washing his hands in icy cold water and splashing a good deal on his face for good measure. He was shivering by the time he left the bathroom, in no small part due to his being shirtless, but he knew when Jensen resumed tattooing his chest would warm with the blood rushing to the wounds and the adrenaline when it started circulating again. Jensen had already settled back on his stool, donning new gloves, and was in the process of adding a self-adhesive piece of plastic to the handle of his coffee so he could still drink it as he worked. He smiled at him as Jared walked over, looking up at him from over the rim of his glasses in a way that threatened to undo the fragile success of Jared’s self-calming pep talk.

“If you’re good we should get back to it. I’ve still got the other wing to knock out and then we can work on the colour. I put your coffee in arm’s reach, by the way. Just there,” Jensen nodded to where the cup was on the corner of the nearest desk.  

“Thanks, man.” Jared slid back onto the bench and did his best to get comfortable. Jensen waited and watched him shimmy, the tattoo gun already in hand. When Jared finally stilled, he let his hands form easy fists at his side, knowing he’d be clenching them in earnest in a matter of minutes. He tried not to audibly suck in his breath when Jensen delicately pressed his fingertips to his chest and as the needle came down and the scratchy burn started up, Jared did his best to focus on that instead of the gorgeous guy inflicting it.

Time dragged on, absolutely torturous. Between the juxtaposition of the soft touches of Jensen’s hand and the sting of the needle, Jared’s will power was fading. By the time they’d taken what would hopefully be their last break, the colour well underway and both of them needing to pause for the pizza they’d had delivered, Jared was _tired_. His chest was sore and tight and he couldn’t stay warm anymore. He grabbed his shirt from the back of the chair and when he laid back down he covered his stomach and rest his forearms there, trying to hold on to whatever heat he could. Earlier they had continued to chat about anything and everything Jared could think of, from books to favourite movies and even to some philosophy. Now though, either despite of or because of his full stomach Jared couldn’t be sure, Jared was quiet. He kept his eyes closed and tried to stay relaxed, but whatever adrenaline reserves he had were surely spent, and the pain seemed sharper now. He was fisting the material of his shirt and his winces were sometimes accompanied with pained sounds from the back of his throat. Jensen kept working away, and occasionally Jared thought he heard him breathe quiet encouragements, maybe that he was doing great, there wasn’t much now, and it’d be over before he knew it. Jared wasn’t sure if he imagined the soft words but he held onto them anyway, knowing after so many hours that they really must be close to finished.

After what felt like forever, Jensen was wiping at the excess ink and blood that bubbled up on Jared’s chest and didn’t immediately get back to him with the needle. Jared chanced opening his eyes and tilted his head to look at Jensen, who was pouring over his work with a focused eye. Jared tried not to get his hopes up but the sun had already mostly disappeared and it had gotten dark in the shop except for the lights above him. He was ready for this to be over.

“Well, Jared…” Jensen sprayed his chest with antiseptic and wiped it away gently, still passing his eyes over all the lines and colours. “I think you’re done. Man, you sat like a champ. It’s been,” he checked his watch. “Just over 8 hours. Solid stuff. I’m gonna let it bleed out a little before we cover it up, if you want to go check it out.” The smile Jensen gave Jared then made his stomach flutter, but he groaned as he sat up, clutching his wrinkled shirt in one hand and rolling his head to stretch his neck. Jensen went to work cleaning up his station and Jared hurried to the mirror to see the finished product.

It was even more beautiful than Jared could have imagined, the black and white flash art Jensen had showed him that morning having blossomed into something truly breathtaking with the addition of the bright and rich colours. Jared grinned at his reflection like the lightheaded, completely elated fool that he was as Jensen came up behind him, those perfect pretty lips of his smiling, too.

“I gotta say, I’m really pleased with how that turned out. Hopefully I didn’t disappoint?” Jensen’s eyes found Jared’s in the mirror and suddenly Jared wasn’t sure how many words he could string together.

“No, Jensen,” Jared answered, shaking his head, a little incredulous. “Far, far from it.” He didn’t trust himself to keep talking.

Jensen gave Jared’s chest another once-over in the mirror.

“It’s not bleeding too badly, so come back to the bench and have a seat, I’ll get it covered up. I don’t know if your other artists have used this before, but I use a medical Second Skin. It’s breathable, self-adhesive, and waterproof. They use it on burn victims, among other things, but it’s great for tattoos. It helps the healing process and it means you can wear clothes and shower comfortably for the first few days. You’ll keep it on for 72 hours if you can.”

Jared had followed him back to the bench, and watched as he cut some of the clear plastic from a roll. He kept his head to the side while Jensen smoothed it in pieces across his chest, his palms pressing down on him firmly, and Jared was certain he would lose it if he let his eyes wander over Jensen’s face while it was in such close proximity to his own. His stomach was wrapped in knots. The tattoo was done and the feeling of now or never was creeping into his nervous system, making him anxious and borderline jittery under Jensen’s hands. They were so close, and Jared couldn’t stop himself; when Jensen had placed the final piece on his skin and went to take back his hands, Jared reached up between them and gently circled his fingers around one of Jensen’s wrists, tentatively keeping him from letting go.

Jensen immediately looked up. His face was level with Jared’s because of the way Jared was leaning on the edge of the bench, and suddenly their eyes were locked together, brilliant green dazzling through pretty, lush lashes. Jared couldn’t blink. He could barely remember to breathe.

“Jared…” Jensen hardly said it, and his voice broke a little when he did. His eyes flitted down to Jared’s mouth and it was all the permission he needed. Jared closed the small distance between them and let his lips press to Jensen’s, fire spreading through his body starting wherever they touched. He left his shirt abandoned at his side and brought his other hand up to Jensen’s face, slid it along his jaw, his fingers reaching the soft skin behind his ear and continuing into his hair. With that Jensen made a small, beautiful sound and Jared felt his body go lax with it, relief flooding his system that this was happening, that Jensen was leaning into him and parting his lips. Jensen’s tongue traced the edge of his mouth, teased at the ring in the corner of it and then slipped inside, finding Jared’s own and dancing around it. Jared was pretty sure the sounds he was hearing then were his, but he couldn’t be certain and he wasn’t about to admit it either way. Jensen’s other hand had somehow found its way to Jared’s hip, the grip of it there and the rubbing of his thumb across the jut of the bone communicating directly with Jared’s cock, filling it almost painfully fast where it was trapped against his leg. By the time Jensen broke the kiss, just, resting his forehead on Jared’s, they were both panting. Jared took a shaky deep breath.

“Jensen, I-” he laughed a little when he struggled to get the sounds out. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I met you. Please, I can’t- I’m not ready to leave you. I’m sorry if that’s forward, but Jesus I-”

Jared was rambling and breathless and Jensen saved him with a hand under his chin, tilting his face up and bringing their lips back together. Jared couldn’t help the shudder that went through him and he finally let go of Jensen’s wrist in favour of snaking an arm around his waist, pulling him close. Jensen’s legs had been on either side of Jared’s before when he had been applying the Second Skin, and now that Jared had brought their bodies together, Jensen’s thighs were pressed against his in a tight vee, Jared’s steely length straining against the confines of his jeans and into the resistance of it. Jared canted his hips up just so, pushing into Jensen, and couldn’t keep in the moan that followed when both of Jensen’s hands, on his hips, were digging in and pulling as he tilted to meet him.

“ _God_ , Jared…” Jensen whispered into Jared’s mouth, their lips barely parting, and Jared swallowed it down like it was all that was keeping him alive. He couldn’t think of a single thing past Jensen and the way he was fucking his tongue into his mouth, their kisses starting to border on frantic as they tried to match the way their hips were rocking together. Jensen moved his hands to the small of Jared’s back, lighting on the skin there for one teasing moment before his fingertips disappeared under the edge of Jared’s jeans, sliding down and palming his ass as he tried to get them as closer. The sounds they made got lost in each others’ mouths and Jared felt dizzy when Jensen rolled his hips to the side and he suddenly realized that was the rigid length of Jensen’s dick against his own. The feel of their cocks grinding against each other even through all the layers between them was making Jared so sex-dumb and lightheaded he was losing the ability to control how his lips moved against Jensen’s. He settled for sucking on his tongue as he took his hand from where it had been fisted in Jensen’s hair and brought it back to steady himself on the bench. Jared was trembling and when he finally surrendered Jensen’s tongue, Jensen kissed the corner of his mouth, sucking a little at the ring, and slowed his hips, moving to long, slow circles that dragged them against each other and coaxed more sounds from low in Jared’s throat. Jensen brought his hands up Jared’s back, then replaced them on Jared’s hips, kissing and nipping at Jared’s jaw, sucking a little at his earlobe, and licking at the skin behind it.

“ _Fuck_ , Jared,” he managed between kisses, dragging out Jared’s name and pressing it to his neck. “This is- you are- the _things_ I wanna do to you…”

“Oh God,” Jared choked out, his hips bucking up into Jensen’s of their own volition, the arm he still had around Jensen’s back tightening its grip. “ _Please_ Jensen, anything. _Fuck_ , everything. Need you, all of you.”

 

\---

 

Jensen couldn’t say what had gotten into him. Well, that wasn’t true, strictly speaking; he most certainly could. It was Jared. He knew that much, but he couldn’t tell where his restraint had gone, or what had happened to his brain that brought him here, sucking at Jared’s neck and rubbing their dicks together with a kind of reckless abandon he’d never given into before. One minute he was patching the guy up and the next- oh, hell. He couldn’t think, and he decided he didn’t care to. He’d been aching to get his hands on Jared and now that they were there, he was drunk on it. Jared’s voice, rough with want, went straight to his cock, and Jensen was sure he was out of his mind. He pulled his lips from where they were pressed to Jared’s shoulder, took off his glasses and set them aside, dropping carelessly to his knees.

“Oh shit…” Jared croaked out, leaning back on the arm he had braced behind him on the bench, the other coming up to plaster his forehead like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Which was fair, Jensen reasoned, because he couldn’t really believe it either. He also couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling at the bulge in Jared’s pants, finding the end of it with his nose and mouthing at it through the denim. He felt Jared shudder, letting Jensen’s name slip in a gasp from his lips like he was dying. His hand found the side of Jensen’s face and his thumb caressed his temple. Jensen pushed into his palm like a cat, starving for the affection.

“Jared,” he panted, daring to look up at him through his lashes. The way Jared looked back at him, Jensen almost forgot he was trying to say something. “Tell me- say it’s okay, please. I- I wanna taste you.” He didn’t remember letting them, but his hands had found their way to the button of Jared’s jeans and his breath caught in his throat.

“ _Jesus_ Jensen, yes, _yeah_.”

Jensen’s hands were next to useless as he struggled with the button and then the zipper, but they managed - _finally_ \- and he coaxed Jared to lift his hips so he could slide his pants and boxers down, letting them fall past his knees. Jared’s dick sprung up and slapped at his belly, wetting the skin where it touched, precome connecting to it in thin lines as it bounced off, making Jensen’s mouth water.

Jensen groaned as he took in the sight of it. Of course Jared would be proportional, long and perfect, the skin flushed and dark with the sheer volume of furiously pounding blood pumping through it, clearly as achingly hard as Jensen felt where he was still trapped by his own jeans. Gravity had brought it down closer to his face and he tilted his head up to lick at the end of it, lapping up the pearl of liquid that bubbled there, earning him a beautiful sound from Jared and fingertips carding gently through his hair. Jensen leaned a little more and sucked the tip into his mouth, flicking his tongue at the sensitive spot under the head. Jared gasped a little above him, and the fingers in his hair were gripping tightly but not pushing or pulling. Jensen squeezed at Jared’s hips and took more of Jared’s dick into his mouth. He started to find a rhythm as he sucked at it, keeping his lips tight as they slid up and down Jared’s spit-slick length, and he took a hand off Jared’s hip to play with his balls instead, stroking them lightly and tugging them down just so, an honest-to-God whine escaping Jared’s mouth. Jensen kept bobbing on Jared’s cock, the tip of it hitting the back of his throat on each down stroke, the sensation of being filled by him going straight to the base of his spine where a heat was pooling and pulling at him and _Jesus fucking Christ_ if this kept up Jensen might actually come in his fucking pants, untouched like some kind of adolescent.

“Fucking hell, Jensen, your mouth- feels so good, you look so- uh, so good on my cock, oh God, oh God,” Jared’s mouth was running now, completely without a driver it seemed, spewing a breathy litany of curses and praise that Jensen took in like a drug, feeling high and lost to it all, floating on the musky, earthy scent of Jared that filled his nose and looking up at Jared’s _gorgeous fucking face_. He was painfully aware of how his own balls were drawing up tight to his body and he couldn’t help rocking his hips where he knelt between Jared’s legs, if only to feel the very slightest friction there against his pants. Jared’s hand gripped feverishly at his hair and started to tug at him gently, tried to pull him back.

“Oh God, Jensen, Jen- uh, gonna-”

Jensen sucked hard on the next upward pull and flicked his tongue at the underside of Jared’s dick just as he came, Jared’s other hand flying to Jensen’s shoulder to brace himself as his body curled inward, pulses of slightly bitter, salty fluid filling Jensen’s mouth and spilling a little from the corners of his lips as he desperately drank it down. A second wave punched Jensen’s name from Jared’s mouth in a cry that shot straight through Jensen, and, like it was lighting the fuse of a powder keg, barely a second later Jensen was shaking through his own orgasm, seeing stars behind his eyes, and he clutched at Jared’s hips to ride it out with a moan.

Jensen, completely blissed out and maybe a little mortified that he’d just jizzed in his pants, turned his head and laid the side of his face on Jared’s thigh, still nursing gently at Jared’s cock which was softening in his mouth. Jared hummed a little as he came down, stroking at the side of Jensen’s face and running a hand through his hair.

“Jensen,” he whispered. “Jensen, come here,” he dropped one hand to Jensen’s shoulder and started to pull him up. Jensen let Jared’s dick slide out of his mouth and lapped at the excess spit, licking his lips before looking up at Jared’s perfectly flushed face that was looking back at him with dreamy eyes and a goofy smile that didn’t help with Jensen’s jelly legs. He held on to Jared as he brought himself to standing, wobbly, but Jared held him tightly, too. He started to reach between Jensen’s legs when Jensen managed to make his mouth obey him again just enough.

“I’m good, Jared,” he mumbled, feeling himself flush even deeper, as if that was even possible.

“Shit, Jensen,” Jared chuckled, but it wasn’t cruel, and he abandoned that game plan and instead pulled Jensen in close, kissing at him lazily. “So fucking _hot_ ,” he said into Jensen’s mouth, and it made Jensen shiver.

“Yeah?” he smiled as he kissed him back, and Jared made a small, happy sound in the affirmative as his hands roamed, gentle over Jensen’s back and ass. Jared broke the kiss and nuzzled into the crook of Jensen’s shoulder, slipping both arms around him and just… held him. Jensen was still fuzzy from it all and felt so at home in Jared’s arms that he let himself be tucked in there and leaned into Jared.

Jensen wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, Jared resting on the tattoo bench with his pants at his ankles and Jensen fully clothed and clutching at him, both their faces buried and breathing in each others’ warmth. Jensen was eventually aware of Jared shaking again, this time from the cold.

“Jared, shit, you must be freezing. Let’s get you dressed, okay?” Jensen almost didn’t recognize the weak sound of his own voice, but Jared nodded into his shoulder so he stooped down to pull up Jared’s pants, tenderly tucking him back in. He did his best to ignore the very uncomfortable feeling of the come that was drying inside his boxers and pulling at him when he moved. Jared just let Jensen dress him, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, his hands resting on Jensen’s shoulders. Jensen eyed Jared’s shirt where it was lying on the bench, wrung out and completely wrinkled from when Jared had clutched at it with sweaty hands earlier. So instead, he reached past Jared and snagged his big sweatshirt off the back of his chair.

“Here. Your shirt is a mess. And this will be warmer anyway.” When he handed the sweater to him, Jared was giving him a puppy-eyed look that just _melted_ him.

“Thanks,” Jared slipped it over his head, wincing a little at the tight ache across his chest under the bandage. Despite being taller and longer than Jensen, the sweater - which Jensen loved in part because of its largeness - fit Jared fine. Jensen watched him put it on and he was overwhelmed by the need to touch him again. He brought his hand to Jared’s arm, stroking it tentatively and standing close. His mind clearing from the sex-induced fog that had enveloped it, Jensen realized what a mess he was inside. He’d wanted Jared since he first laid eyes on him; he was high that this had happened, but it wasn’t like him to throw himself at someone like that,  and he was feeling some crazy mix of shy, pleased, excited and terrified. It didn’t help that he still felt this kind of urgency like a current running through him, this horrible thought that if he let Jared go he might leave and that would be it; afraid that this was all he wanted from Jensen and the brief sight of Jared’s gorgeous cock, the taste of him in his mouth and the feel of his lips would become nothing but a cruel, cherished memory. His hand still on Jared’s arm, he was looking at his feet, and wondered what on Earth he was supposed to say next.

“Jensen,” Jared’s voice, so soft, hit his ears the same time his fingers brushed at Jensen’s jaw, pausing where it met his neck.

 

\---

 

Jared had been watching Jensen intently, despite his sex-addled mush for brains, since he’d brought the beautiful man to his feet. Jared was absolutely blown away by what just happened, and though he knew it had happened, he was still having a hard time believing it. He had pegged Jensen for shy, the way he’d blushed on-and-off pretty much all day, and he just had this kind of modest vibe about him. Not that Jared hadn’t been wrong before, and, hell, he was glad for it - had been thinking about it for two straight weeks - but getting Jensen on his knees and the life sucked out of him through his dick was _not_ what he’d thought was going to happen tonight. Fuck, it had been hot, and Jensen- _Sweet Jesus_ , his mouth. But whatever side of Jensen that had put Jared at his absolute mercy seemed to be disappearing by the second and Jared was trying not to worry that Jensen’s increasingly reserved demeanour was a reflection of regret. He was currently wearing Jensen’s sweater so that could only be a good sign, right? But when his eyes followed the line of Jensen arm from where it rested on his to Jensen’s face, he found him looking down and shifting his weight a little anxiously.

“Jensen,” he reached out, trying to be reassuring with his voice as he softly placed his hand on Jensen’s neck, letting his thumb slide over the space between his jaw and his ear. “Hey.”

Jared used some easy pressure to tilt Jensen’s face up, made him look at him. Jared searched his endless green eyes and saw so many things, not the least of which was affection, and uncertainty. Jared didn’t know what to say, realizing he really didn’t know Jensen well enough to know what he needed to hear, but knew that he _wanted_ to know. So he did the only thing he thought he could, and kissed him. Chaste, sweet, and easy, more gentle and completely unhurried unlike their kisses before. Jensen leaned into it, and Jared could feel him relax. Jared wanted more of the taste of Jensen’s lips and wanted more of them sharing the same space; he wanted to properly thank Jensen for the magic of his mouth and tell him without words that this was anything but casual. When he took his lips off of Jensen’s, the words that followed surprised even him, like his mouth hadn’t asked his brain for permission before making the sounds.

“Come home with me,” spilled from his tongue. Jensen’s eyes fluttered open to meet his, and Jared shivered at the intensity of the emerald gaze. He didn’t think it could ever be less than breathtaking. Jared hadn’t planned on bringing Jensen home, but now that he’d put it out there, it wasn’t like he could pretend he didn’t mean it. Especially since he most certainly did. “Please, Jensen. Can’t- I need… Can’t say goodbye to you. Not now. Please.”

Jared was holding his breath as he looked back into Jensen’s eyes, feeling them searching him and hoping they found whatever they needed. To his insurmountable relief, they must have.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, Jared. Just- Let me get cleaned up.” Jensen planted a quick kiss on Jared’s mouth, started to pull back but leaned in again for another before he finally let go of Jared’s arm and went to the washroom. Suddenly alone, Jared felt a wave of cold sweep over him despite Jensen’s very cozy sweater and he took a deep breath. He tried to remember the state of his apartment; he was pretty sure his room was tidy despite the bed definitely not being made and there could only be a day’s worth of dishes in his sink at most. He ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it down and tucking all the strands near his face back behind his ears. He could hear the faint sounds of water running from the bathroom and miraculously remembered he still needed to pay Jensen for the tattoo. He fished the folded, money-laden envelope out of his back pocket and set it on the desk by the closed laptop. He grabbed the nearest pen and scribbled _Jensen $$$_ on it, just in case Jensen didn’t ask him for it before they left. Thinking along the same lines,  just to make sure he knew what it was for, he added his name in the bottom corner along with two _xx_ ’s because surely that was okay, considering their insane make-out session and blow job, the aftereffects of which were still humming through Jared’s body, keeping him lithe and easy.

He folded up his shirt and moved to the door to wait for Jensen, tongue spinning the ring in his lip out of habit. Then he made an executive decision and called for a taxi. He was getting Jensen home and he was getting him there _now_.

 

\---

 

The cab ride back to Jared’s apartment was quiet, and somehow those fifteen minutes managed to feel longer than the entire day’s worth of tattooing. Jared struggled to not press into Jensen’s space, settling for keeping his leg rested against Jensen’s instead. Jensen had given him a kind of secretive smile after they’d driven away from Wayward Sails, and it inspired Jared to reach for Jensen’s hand where it lay sitting in his lap. He took it in his own and let his fingers explore its edges and valleys, rubbing small circles into Jensen’s honeyed skin, and he looked the other way out the car window while he did because if he kept looking at Jensen, the back seat of this taxi would inevitably become a kind of amateur peep show.

Jensen insisted on paying the fare. Jared led Jensen up the steps to the door of his apartment, fumbling with his keys like in some horribly clichéd chick flick, not that Jensen was helping; he was standing so close behind him that Jared could feel the warmth coming off his body and seeping into his own. While Jared was - _finally_ \- putting the right key into the lock, Jensen pressed up against his back and planted a tentative kiss just under Jared’s ear. Effectively, time stood still. Jared’s eyes fluttered closed and his hands froze in mid-turn of the key, and he leaned back a little, feeling how Jensen had to push up on his toes to reach at him. He let out an open-mouthed breath when Jensen’s tongue started up next, little kitten-licks on his skin with just the tip of it. He knew, there’d been something, surely, that he was trying to do just then, but--

“Aren’t you gonna take me inside, Jared?”

 _Oh yeah. That_.

Jensen whispered it in his ear, so close that Jared was sure he felt rather than heard it, and followed it up by pressing a kiss into Jared’s neck, imprinting his smile there. Jared swallowed sluggishly, his mouth dry and no part of his body seemingly listening to the garballed commands his brain was trying to send out.

“Um,” Jared chuckled a little as Jensen yielded, giving him just a tiny bit of space to think and reconnect to his hand with the key. “Yes, yeah. Come on in.”

Jared couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself when he heard the lock unclick and then had the presence of mind to hold the door open for Jensen like a gentleman.

“We’re- it’s upstairs,” Jared cleared his throat and nodded to the narrow staircase in front of them. “Go ahead.”

Jensen started to head up and Jared was distracted the entire way by Jensen’s ridiculously tempting ass which was gloriously at eye level as he followed him. _That ass he wanted to get lost in_. Jared almost moaned at the thought. As clichéd as it was, everything about this was straight out of any number of a dozen fantasies Jared had been hung-up on all week, so it did feel deliriously like some kind of dream come true.

Jensen was waiting for him in the small landing at the top of the stairs, watching him crowd into the space to let them in. He managed to get the door open with less difficulty than the one downstairs and, once again, he gestured for Jensen to go in ahead of him. There was no light but for what came off the moon and the street lamps through the still uncovered windows, and Jared turned his back to Jensen just long enough to close and lock the door behind him. When he came back around Jensen was right in his space and gently - careful of his tender, newly tattooed chest  - pushed him into the closed door and found his lips despite the darkness. Jared’s parted for Jensen’s tongue on a quiet moan, happy to drown in the feeling of it exploring the inside of his mouth as Jensen’s body mapped itself against his. Jared let his keys drop to the floor in favour of running his hands over Jensen’s arms, up and down his back, one finding its way to cradling the back of Jensen’s head and the other settling on his hip. Their kisses were passionate and Jared was beyond happy to let Jensen set the pace, but he gave back languidly, tried to let Jensen know they didn’t have to rush, that they could take all night. Jensen seemed to get the message, his lips meeting Jared’s like he was savouring every feel and flavour. He hummed into Jared’s mouth when Jared gently sucked at his tongue - something that seemed hardwired to Jared’s dick, which had been hard before but was now ready to pound nails - before taking it back and moving to kiss along Jared’s jaw, burrowing into his neck while one hand slid into the mess of Jared’s hair. Jared panted as he leaned into the door, his hands on Jensen’s hips driving them around in circles where they were pressed against his own, very certainly short circuiting his brain.

“Jensen,” he started, the name coming out slow and long. He felt like there was going to be more to that, but then Jensen was carefully pulling up his sweater and tugging it over his head to be discarded on the floor. Jared open his mouth to maybe try and find more words - seriously, he was sure there were things that needed saying - when Jensen’s teeth were grazing his shoulder and then sucking, drawing up blood that he traced with the tip of his tongue, marking him up for the second time that day. As the cool air found Jared’s arms his brain scraped up enough neurons to consider that Jensen was still way over dressed, too, and what little coordination Jared could muster under the debilitating influence of Jensen’s _perfect fucking mouth_ was used to pull the offending t-shirt up over Jensen’s head. Jensen protested weakly only because it meant for a brief moment that his lips were not in some way worshipping Jared’s body, which they went right back to doing the moment his head was clear and the shirt was lost somewhere in the the room. Joined at the hips, Jensen still seemed keenly aware of the shiny plastic bandage covering Jared’s newest ink, and he was careful not to press his chest flush against it as he continued to nip along Jared’s shoulder, teasing the skin with light drags of his teeth.

“J- Jensen,” Jared tried again, this time with more luck despite the spell being cast by the mouth that was wet and warm on his skin. “Jen- ah, hey. Hey,” he let out a breathy laugh and caught Jensen’s face with his hands, found the dark pools of his eyes shining in the low light. “Look, I- uh. Maybe this is totally unsexy to say but-” he cut himself off to kiss at Jensen’s lower lip, because it was puffy and glistening at him and he just couldn’t resist. “I don’t want to fuck this up. You are- well, you’re something else, Jensen.”

Jared let his eyes bore into Jensen’s, praying that even in the dark his sincerity and want would be obvious and reassuring.

“Yeah, Jared. No, not. Not unsexy at all. _Fuck_ ,” he laughed then, and kissed Jared back quickly. “The opposite of unsexy.”

Jared grinned then, a little giddy knowing that this meant that Jensen wanted more from him than just… _this_ , too. He let go of Jensen’s face to caress down his arms, then up his back, revelling in the soft smoothness of his skin.    

“What do you want, Jensen?” Jared whispered, leaning in to Jensen’s ear and licking at the shell of it. “Tell me. Please, wanna give you everything.”

Jared felt the shiver that went through Jensen then, heard the barely audible whimper he made as he rolled his hips against Jared’s.

“Sh- shit, Jared,” Jensen stuttered, the hand in Jared’s hair tightening and tugging a little, sending sparks through Jared from there all the way to his toes as Jensen leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “W- want you to fuck me.”

He said it against Jared’s lips, and Jared moaned wantonly in response, his dick twitching enthusiastically where it was trapped between their bodies and against Jensen’s, delicious electric heat spilling out in waves from low in his belly.

“Yeah, oh God, yes. Bed, please. C’mon,”Jared collected himself enough to kiss Jensen once more before manhandling him towards his bed at the far corner of the apartment, gentle but firm as he spun him and slipped his arms around his waist, keeping their bodies together as he walked Jensen forward. Jensen moved with him willingly, let his body go lax, leaning against Jared’s, his head resting back on Jared’s shoulder. Jared’s cock was delighted to be pressed up against and straining into the crease of Jensen’s ass, double layer of denim notwithstanding, and while one hand was on Jensen’s hip to keep him walking forward, the other had snaked around and down, and Jared hummed as he palmed the scorching hot bulge that was threatening to burn right through Jensen’s pants.

The awkward walk/shuffle was slow going but in the best way, letting Jared rub the head of his dick into Jensen’s lush backside while he rubbed the heel of his hand up and down Jensen’s, coaxing intoxicating little sounds from his mouth that Jared wished he could swallow. Jared finally stopped when Jensen’s legs were just about to brush the edge at the foot of the bed and, though it took nearly Herculean effort on his part, Jared stepped back to start to undo his pants. He was about to tell Jensen to do the same when his eyes, now well adjusted to the darkness, saw Jensen’s bare back for the first time. As if Jensen sensed Jared’s sudden stillness, he started to turn.

“No! Don’t- Jensen, wait. Let me see it.” Jared’s voice was breathy but urgent as his hands abandoned his button and flew up to Jensen’s shoulders to keep him where he was. He felt Jensen’s whole body stiffen under his scrutiny, but he said nothing.

Across Jensen’s back spread the most beautiful set of wings, clearly of an albatross; even in the streetlight glow of his apartment Jared could make out the same greys, blacks, and mottling of the tattoo now on his own chest. Jensen’s wings were made to look as though they sprouted from just inside his shoulder blades and magnificently stretched across his shoulders and down the backs of both arms. In the space between them, an arrow was threaded through the skin, piercing low with the bloody tip drawing up Jensen’s neck. Nautical rope elegantly circled beneath it, tying down below the feathered end of the arrow, and a delicate cross dangled between the entry points from a cord wrapped around the shaft. A banner was simply draped across the top, threaded between the rope and the arrow, and on it read a quote Jared recognized - he had liked the sound of it from his first read-through - from Coleridge’s poem: “he prayeth well who loveth well.” The words ‘man’ and ‘beast’ were scripted on smaller banners underneath on either side.

Jared’s first reaction was awe; he knew Jason had inked this tattoo - Jensen had mentioned it in passing earlier in the day, without telling Jared what it was - but it was clearly Jensen’s own design, and it was an exquisite work of art. The next realization hit Jared like a bag of bricks to the gut; this tattoo - in more ways than one - was directly tied to his own. They were by no means identical, and Jensen’s was obviously embodying more of the darker elements of the poem, but there was no mistaking the parallels or the ways the designs complemented each other. Jensen’s tattoo was somehow like a darker echo, a different angle, of the tattoo that now spanned bright and hopeful across Jared’s front. The tattoo that Jensen chose for him. That Jensen _chose_. For _him_.

He must have stood there mouth agape in the darkness, swimming in the tidal waves of emotions coursing through him as he poured over Jensen’s tattoo, a lot longer than he meant to because Jensen finally turned towards him. He kept his eyes at his feet.

“Jared, I-,” he hesitated, and Jared still felt like was playing catch up. Even without seeing Jensen’s face, Jared could sense that he was on the edge, maybe one or two panicked breaths away from freaking out, maybe even making a run for it. When Jensen continued to speak it was like he was trying to say a dozen things at once, none of them fully thought-out, all of them rushed with a kind of apologetic desperation. “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect- never occurred to me you’d ever see mine so- I’m such an _idiot_ , man, please, don’t be ma-”

The swell that was carrying Jared finally crested and, as if coming out of a trance, he all but flung himself at Jensen, leading with his lips, which crushed against Jensen’s with a kind of ferocity that took even Jared by surprise. Jensen seemed stunned a moment before his brain either shut up or tuned in - either way getting with the program - and he tried to keep up, giving in to him wholly, his tongue sliding against Jared’s as it plundered his mouth. Jensen keened as Jared’s hands were seemingly all over his body, squeezing and tugging and moving like they might never get enough, and Jared couldn’t wait another minute; he grabbed tightly around Jensen’s waist and leaned, tipping them down and tumbling them to the bed.

The move was hardly graceful, and their foreheads knocked together as they jostled and bounced a little onto the plush duvet, but it had both of them grinning and panting and letting out easy laughs. Jared coaxed Jensen up the bed so his head could find a pillow, and Jared hovered over him, a knee finding its way between Jensen’s, waiting for him to settle before kissing him again, more gently but no less hungry.

 

\---

 

Jensen was lightheaded from all the kissing. Or Jared. Or both. Or how he just didn’t seem to be able to remember to actually take a breath. When he’d realized Jared was seeing his tattoo, his stomach dropped somewhere to the main floor of the apartment building, if not the sewers or tunnels below even that, and his mouth and throat stopped working entirely. Not to mention his brain also decided it was time to step out, as if to say, ‘ _yeah well, you got yourself into this without me, genius, so you can figure it out solo, too_.’

When he started stuttering his way through pathetic explanations or attempts to downplay the situation, or get through whatever _not_ plan he had, the last thing he expected was to be more or less swept off his feet and knocked back onto the bed. Jared was on him - all fucking over him - and however his dick may have softened in conjunction with the plummeting of his stomach, it returned full force - he couldn’t say the same for his brain - the moment his body recognized that he wasn’t getting punched but rather ravished by Jared’s mouth and hands.

Deliriously happy to be on his back and underneath Jared, he scrambled up on the bed with Jared looking down at him and their eyes met with a heat that seemed to light up the room. For a brief moment, Jensen was so overwhelmed by everything he saw in Jared’s face, he thought he must’ve lapsed into a dream; maybe Jared had punched him, he was unconscious or dead and this was just his lucky piece of heaven. But then those lips were smiling at him, that spine-melting dimpled smile, and somehow, Jensen knew it was real.

 “Jared, I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare apologize, Jensen. Don’t even fucking think about it.” There was no heat in Jared’s words as he cut him off, only something tender, earnest. “It’s more than just a piece of art. It’s a gift. From you. F- for me.” He said it like a statement but the timber of his voice made the uncertain question of it clear as it reached out to Jensen through the darkness and the quiet stillness of the apartment, the heaviness of the moment as they lay both of them unmoving, listening, searching, seeing, finding.

“Yeah, Jared. Yes, God. I just. There’s something about you, _Jesus_. I had that piece half finished for ages but it just seemed… right. For you. Had to. Wanted you to have it. W-wanted you.”

Jensen was looking up at Jared intently and at his words Jared’s eyes closed and he groaned, bringing his chin to chest which set free his long green and brown hair from behind his ears so that it danced and tickled at Jensen’s face.

“Fucking Christ, Jensen. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Jared brought his head back up to kiss Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen arched into it, his whole body straining to eliminate the space between them. “Off. Get these off.” Jared patted at Jensen’s hips before breaking the kiss and leaning back on his knees to fumble with his own jeans. Jensen did not need to be told twice and though he was a little distracted, trying to take in the painfully sexy sight of Jared stripping down to nothing while straddling his leg, he hurried to do the same.

A few moments, some shimmies, and some breathy laughter later, Jared and Jensen’s pants were finally nowhere to be seen, discarded somewhere into the inconsequential void of the world past the edges of the bed. Jared was still sitting back on his heels, now in the space between Jensen’s legs that he’d made just for him, and Jensen couldn’t help but blush from the way Jared was looking at him, kind of reverent; it was was somehow filled with awe, soft, and intense all at once, and Jensen wanted to be swallowed up by the way it made his heart flutter in his chest.  

 “Jared, _Jesus_ , please. _Come here_ ,” Jensen kind of laughed when he said it, impatient but not really, because he absolutely needed Jared’s skin against his own but he was also just as desperate to make it last, which he could already tell from earlier and just fucking looking at Jared that might be an issue.

Jared gave him a small, wicked smile and moved to cover Jensen with his body; he arched as he did, dragging his stomach up the length of Jensen’s cock, which caused him to gasp sharply and instinctively spread his legs. Jared had moved in such a way as to put their dicks side by side, the burning, velvet covered lengths trapped between their bodies, and when he started to roll his hips Jensen was helpless to do anything but buck up to meet him, his hands sliding down Jared’s back and gripping his ass tight, pulling, pushing, anchoring himself to Jared because it was making him crazy, sparking white hot pleasure rippling through him with the friction that was just this side of too rough with only their mixing precome easing the way.

As if Jared was somehow hearing his thoughts  - and also had octopus arms or something, because where the hell did it even come from and how hadn’t Jensen noticed him fetch it - dimly over the sound of his own heartbeat hammering in his ears, Jensen heard a telltale click as Jared opened up a bottle of lube. Jared was still rutting against him, and Jensen was lost in the rhythm as he tilted his hips to give back until the cool touch of lube-covered fingers reached between them and started to rub at his perineum in minute circles, edging down. At that Jensen stilled, his entire body sizzling and focused on that touch, which was followed by gentle pressure around his hole.

Jensen sucked in his breath and, while he’d been watching the way Jared’s arm was angled to reach down and find him, when he brought his eyes back up, Jared was watching his face so carefully, smiling and serious and completely taking Jensen apart. Suddenly Jensen was caught there, held by Jared’s gaze, and it only broke a moment later when Jared’s finger pushed through the first ring of muscle, the burning pleasure of the intrusion sending Jensen’s eyes rolling back and his hips grinding down to beg for more. Jared was taking in every change on Jensen’s face - he could still feel him watching - and he couldn’t keep himself from drawing in his bottom lip with his teeth. Jared seemed to enjoy the sight of it because he whined a little, low and needy, and gave into the hot pull of Jensen’s body, sliding his digit in fully and making Jensen bite down even harder on his lip. Jensen arched his back, keening a little as he pushed against Jared’s finger. Jared got the hint, and when he next drew back he added a second, punching a groan out of Jensen with the stretch of it, feeling his channel squeeze around them like a vice, trying to take them deeper. Jensen was marginally aware of the sensation of Jared’s long fingers searching inside him, leaving his fingerprints, going out of his mind with the need for Jared to be really filling him up, when those fingers found his prostate. Jensen cried out with the first stroke, his body curling up a little and his mouth latched onto Jared’s shoulder; he tried not to bite too hard but his teeth definitely pressed into the skin there. Jared didn’t seem to mind. He moaned as Jensen sucked at him and he kept fucking his fingers into him, alternatively opening Jensen up a little more for a third finger and petting that bundle of nerves, his own cock absolutely dripping onto Jensen’s body where he was writhing underneath him.

“Fuck, Jensen,” it was almost a growl as he leaned down to kiss at Jensen’s nipple, worrying it between his teeth.“Take it so good, Jen. So perfect on my fingers, like you were fucking meant for me.”

“Need you, Jare- ah, Jared. Fuck, uh,” Jensen’s voice was so strained and raw, he could barely recognize it as his own. “I’m ready, ple- please. Gotta have you in me, Jared. F-fucking fill me up.”

He’d barely managed to get all the words out when Jared’s fingers left him, his body shivering with their absence and his hole fluttering in protest at the sudden emptiness. He heard the quiet tear of foil and opened his eyes just in time to see Jared roll the condom down his length. Jensen couldn’t care less about the whines he made as he watched Jared slick up his cock with more of the lube before tossing that aside as well. Jensen spread his legs as far as he could, arching down into the mattress and exposing his stretched out hole for Jared, surprising himself with his easy vulnerability and the way he just instinctively trusted the beautiful man in front of him, the way it just felt safe. Jared was panting hard as he leaned back down against Jensen’s open hips, keeping their bodies together but their chests apart so as not to irritate the tattoo - the pain of which had fizzled out into the background who the hell knows how long ago - and as he used one hand to align the head of his cock, he kissed Jensen’s lips as tenderly as Jensen’s hole puckered around him, taking his breath away. He edged into Jensen’s mouth with his tongue just as he tilted his hips and edged into Jensen's tight, hot hole. Jensen stilled underneath him, trying to relax, inviting him in. They stopped kissing then, mouths open and brushing against each other, just trying to remember to inhale at all as Jared kept going, steady, agonizingly, perfectly slow, until he was completely sheathed inside Jensen. Jared was trembling and fighting every instinct to start fucking into Jensen with abandon and Jensen was heaving, breath caught high in his chest, his hands squeezing at Jared's shoulders. Jensen's cock was lying on his belly in a growing pool of precome, twitching and straining for attention. Jensen finally drew in a full breath and smiled up at Jared, eyes bright despite the darkness with pupils blown wide with desire. He started rocking his hips up and only got two thrusts in before Jared's body sprung to life with the permission. Jared moaned loudly as he started pounding into Jensen, trying to find a rhythm but getting more and more mindless by the minute, Jensen bearing down on him, the tightness of it almost unbearable.

“J- Jensen, oh God, uh, fuck. So fucking perfect, so good on my cock, uh, uh,” Jared’s mouth was off again, and Jensen’s drank up every word, the pleasure-wracked babbling going straight to his dick, pulling wordless sounds from his own mouth and he changed the angle of his head to lick at Jared’s chin. “God, you’re so tight, take me so good, fucking made for me Jen- ah, ah, ah-”

Jensen could tell Jared was close, could feel his fragile rhythm start to stutter, but then he was lifting an arm, pawing at Jensen’s leg and Jensen could tell what he wanted, let him lift one of Jensen’s knees and press it back, opening him up and changing the angle just so, and suddenly with every thrust Jared was scraping against Jensen’s prostate and he was every bit on the edge as Jared. Jared drew back and paused for just a fraction of a second at Jensen’s opening before slamming back inside, hitting that spot just right and sending Jensen straight off the cliff; he cried out with a sound he barely believed could have come from his mouth, his body  going still then starting to shudder as he painted his chest and chin with warm, thick ropes of come. The next wave had him clenching around Jared, impossibly tight, and knocking the breath out of him completely, mercilessly pulling him to his release; Jared’s hips kept pumping into him erratically as he came, rhythm shot, and quiet whines spilled from his lips as his head fell forward to brace on Jensen’s shoulder.

The only sounds for a moment were the heavy pants from them both as they came down together. Jared was trembling above him and very suddenly couldn’t support himself another second, giving in and collapsing on Jensen with a smack and wet sounds as their skin came together, Jensen’s softening dick and the sticky mess between them. Jensen let out an audible breath at Jared’s weight on him but was happy with the feel of it as he settled there, Jared starting to mouth at his shoulder and nuzzle him as he came back to himself. Jensen was practically purring from it, his body light and humming in the afterglow, his hands skimming over the sweat-damp skin of Jared’s back.

With a protestant groan, Jared rolled to the side, reaching down to secure the condom as he slipped out of Jensen to both of their displeasure. Jensen winced and sighed dramatically, already missing the blissful feeling of Jared filling him up. He watched as Jared peeled off the condom and tossed it aside - where he imagined there must be a waste basket on the floor - and then turned back to him, looking at Jensen with shining eyes and that fucked-out smile that Jensen wanted to be responsible for indefinitely. On his side in the crook of Jensen’s arm, he reached over and started tracing the tip of his finger through the cooling come on Jensen’s chest, and Jensen’s dick twitched with interest, despite it being impossibly too soon for such attention. Jensen kept his eyes on Jared as he took the finger back and sucked it into his mouth, closing his eyes around it and making a happy sound like it was the best damn thing he’d ever tasted. Jensen couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen anything hotter in whole damn life.

“Jared, you’re fucking killing me here,” he said breathlessly, reaching to pull Jared’s hand from his mouth and bringing it to his own to suck at it, too.

“Says you,” Jared laughed, eyes fixed on where his finger disappeared between Jensen’s lips. “Fuck.” Jensen released Jared’s finger and Jared replaced it with his tongue, kissing him lazily, every part of him heavy and slow from the orgasm that had so recently wrecked him.

“Should probably-” Jensen tried to talk into Jared’s mouth, which was clearly not about to give up what it was doing any time soon. “Get cleaned up- before we pass out. Should clean up- your bandage.”

Now it was Jared’s turn to sigh dramatically. He rolled onto his back and looked sideways at Jensen, a little pouty. “You’re probably right.”

Jensen smirked at him and leaned over the bed, finding Jared’s pants on the floor and pulling the boxers out to use in cleaning them both off. Both of them had found a calm, natural rhythm to their breathing by the time Jensen was done, and he gently wiped up the mess that had spread over part of Jared’s bandage, making sure not to press too hard into the delicate skin. Jared just watched, seemed to soak up all the attention that Jensen lavished on him, all the kisses planted here and there on Jared’s chest, at the edges of the Second Skin. He ditched the boxers and smiled at Jared with heavy-lidded eyes before crawling back up to kiss him chastely and nestle in along his side, his head burrowed in the crook of his shoulder.

The warm palm of Jared’s hand spread out on his hip, holding him close, and Jensen let his arm that wasn’t tucked up between them wrap around Jared’s waist. He smiled to himself as Jared gave him a gentle squeeze as he started to drift off, replaying in his mind the beautiful filthy things Jared had said, the thought that he was made for him sticking out above the rest. He knew it was just one of those things people said in the throes of passion or whatever, but he couldn’t help that he was holding onto it, that it made his heart swell and it just felt right. Everything about Jared felt right to him, and a part of him wondered if maybe that should be scary, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way. Instead, he smiled and breathed in deeply the scent of them on the air, laden with the unfamiliar elements that were all Jared that Jensen wanted to commit to memory. He hugged Jared a little tighter and finally surrendered, falling into a calm and perfect sleep.

 

\---

 

Consciousness came to Jensen slowly, in  gentle way, so much so that even the brightness of the morning sun coming in the windows wasn’t jarring. He felt peaceful and easy, and more well-rested than he could remember being in a long time. As he became more aware, he reached an arm out blindly for his glasses which would be on his night table and the movement woke up the rest of his body, seemingly reconnected his brain; he wasn’t at home, this was not his bed, and his glasses would not be on the side table. There was a beautiful, perfect ache low in his body that flooded his mind with memories of the night before, and brought his attention to the warm, subtle rise and fall of his other arm where it was still sprawled across Jared. _Jared_.

Jensen was flat on his stomach and had turned his face the other way during the night, but flipped back to peek open his eyes and look at him. Jared was still on his back, his long, sleep-tousled hair a messy nest behind his head. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed silent and steady, the duvet only as high as his hips so that Jensen’s arm was exposed across his belly and the sunlight cast moving reflections as it danced across the shiny bandage on his chest with every inhale and exhale. The open ring in his septum was askew, one end lost up in his nose, and seemingly still in his sleep he tongued at the inside of the ring in his lip, it was such a subconscious habit. It made Jensen smile as he took in the sight of him, looking so serene and like home that Jensen wanted to burrow back against him and never leave this bed. He did send a cursory glance around the room, though. Where were his glasses, exactly? Ah yes, he had set them down in the shop. _Oh, shit. The shop!_

Suddenly Jensen snapped to fully alert, frantically looking at his watch, and he felt Jared stir against him.

“ _Shit!_ ” Jensen cursed and threw himself out of the bed, started scrambling for his clothes which were haphazardly strewn about Jared’s apartment. He was still muttering at himself as he tried to hop into his pants when he saw out of the corner of his eye that Jared propped up on one elbow, watching him with a sleepy, guarded expression.

“Jensen… Everything okay?” Jared’s voice was tentative in a way that absolutely broke Jensen’s heart. _But he was so unbelievably late_.

“God, Jared, _I am so sorry_. I’m not running out on you. I mean, I am, but- Fuck,” He stopped, the button on his jeans still undone, his tee shirt in his hand, and came over to kiss Jared, tongue slipping in between his lips and begging for Jared to believe him.

“I overslept. I’m so late. I’ve got a client in like twenty minutes. I’ve gotta go. Shit, you’ve got my card still?”

Jared was nodding, still not fully awake, and more than a little out of it, which was not helped by the perfection of Jensen’s kiss.

“Please text me today, okay? I can’t believe- I’m _so_ sorry.” He wrestled his way into his shirt and leaned down to kiss at Jared again, a little desperate, and tried to pull away but was trapped by those damned puppy eyes Jared was giving him. He groaned and slipped his hand into Jared’s mane, giving in and kissing him again.

He finally tore his lips from Jared’s and practically bolted for the door. It killed him to leave Jared like that, but if he looked at him again for even a second he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave at all.

 

\---

Jared sat stunned as he watched his apartment door close in a hurry, leaving the room with a sudden and wholly undesirable lack of Jensen. His stomach was all twisted, he was sure in part from the welcome butterflies Jensen’s lips seemed so expert at giving him, but also with something like anxiety or worry. He swallowed hard, still trying to wake up, playing back the last two minutes which were like a blur, then laying back down to his pillow and replaying last night. God, last night… And Jensen… Jesus, Jared was so far gone. What before was just crazy fantasies about the hottest thing Jared had laid eyes on was now a full-blown case of serious _want_ and… shit, well, more than that, if Jared was being honest. Now that Jensen had let him in, he simply knew he didn’t want to be put back out. He didn’t just want Jensen in his bed - though he sure as hell wanted that, Jensen was fucking incredible - but he wanted Jensen in his _life_. And laying in his empty bed, the space next to him still warm from Jensen’s body, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep him.

Jared rolled over to Jensen’s side of the bed, wanting to burrow into the warm and perfect scent of him there, but the tight ache across his chest stopped him on a wince. He looked down at the crinkled plastic cover, the bright colours and lines of the artwork beneath, and despite the pain he was grinning. His tattoo. His tattoo from Jensen. He sighed and slid his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. He stretched a little where he was, ran his hand over the back of his neck to scratch into his hair and then back down again, lingering as the pads of his fingers brushed tender skin on his shoulder where Jensen had left another kind of mark entirely. Jared sighed deeply and rest his hand there, savouring the subtle ache of it. He looked up and his eyes found his kitchen counter. He saw his bag of bagels there, the coffee maker ready to go, and he got an idea. He was grinning to himself like an idiot - thankfully no one was there to witness - but he got up then with purpose, and went to the bathroom to get showered and cleaned up.

 

\---

 

Jensen took a cab to work, flagging down the first one he could find by half running into the road like some kind of idiot. But he was not himself. He was never late for work. Hell, he was always early - like, insanely early. He practically shouted the address at the driver as he sat in the back of the cab. He was a mess. His hair - he hadn’t even looked at it - after last night must be rocking a style somewhere between homeless and certifiably insane. Thank God he kept an extra toiletry kit in his bottom desk drawer. Something told him he probably needed deodorant, and he certainly needed to brush his teeth. And breakfast! He wouldn’t have time before his client came in. What a fucking morning. He groaned. The shop was opening now, and Danneel- _Shit_. Danneel and Jason would be showing up, and for the first time in actual ever, Jensen would not already be at his station. Jensen tapped his forehead on the car window a few times in frustration. Danneel was like a dog with a bone and this? This was the biggest bone he’d ever tossed her. He was not looking forward to this.

He handed the cab driver a gratuitous amount of cash, too hurried to count it thoroughly or wait for change, and flung himself from the car. He strode to the door, not pausing to brace himself but taking a deep breath, and pulled it open.

He didn’t look up and went directly to his station to dig out his kit, and he could feel Danneel and Jason watching him in shocked silence. Danneel had put his usual coffee on his desk, next to his glasses and an envelope with ‘ _Jensen $$$_ ’ and ‘ _Jared xx_ ’ scrawled on it; when he saw that, Jensen absolutely wanted to smack his head on his desk. He’d been so distracted last night that he hadn’t even asked Jared for his fucking money - what kind of professional was he? _The kind that was falling hopelessly and dangerously head over heels for a client he just fucking met. And fucked. Ha._ Oh God, he wished his brain would just shut up. He grabbed his bag and beelined to the bathroom, still refusing to look at or acknowledge his friends’ likely dumbfounded faces.

He took his sweet time in the bathroom, both to further avoid Jason and Danneel but also because he really could have used a shower. He took off his shirt and washed his chest and just ever-so-sore cock with soap and water. While he washed his face and brushed his teeth he gave himself the once over, noting faint shadows of Jared’s kisses on his chest around his nipple, and on his shoulders. Seeing them there made his stomach flutter and his dick get happy where it was already tucked back into his pants.

There was a knock at the door and Jensen jumped, gripping at the edge of the sink.

“Heee-eeey Jensen.” It was Danneel. Shocker. “You know you gotta come out of there eventually right? Might as well just get it over with.” Jensen could _hear_ the shit-eating grin he knew was on her face, and he could picture Jason standing quietly behind her, arms crossed on his chest and his own huge smile only partially obscured by his unruly beard. Jensen sighed. He opened the door.

“So this is Walk-of-Shame Ackles, is it?” Danneel started in, her smile absolutely ear to ear, and she gestured at Jensen dramatically. She whistled. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Ha ha, very funny, Danni.” Jared glared at her just a second before brushing past to get to his glasses and his coffee. He sipped at it and was comforted by the familiar warmth, flavour, and much appreciated shot of caffeine. He tried to tune Danneel out.

“Saw your money there, Jensen. You uh, forget something, last night? You weren’t _distracted_ by anything were you? Or was he just _so good_ you were gonna work for free?” She laughed and came up behind him. “Lucky for you he must be a half-decent guy, leaving it there for you. And kisses, huh? Whatever _did_ you get up to?” She grabbed at the place between his ribs and his hips and Jensen just about upset his coffee cup.

“C’mon, Danni,” he said, exasperated. “Will you just drop it?”

Then Jensen was quite literally saved by the bell. The shop door opened and the alarm chimed with both Jensen and Danneel’s first clients coming through. Danneel might get her kicks from ribbing Jensen and trying to get him to snap, but work was work. She gave Jensen a deliberate look that said plain as day ‘this isn’t over’ and turned away from him, slipping into her usual work demeanor. Jensen took a deep breath and slipped into his too, though there was still a part of his brain that was decidedly somehow stuck on Jared and his stupid, sunshine face.

 

\---

 

Jensen had been tattooing for the better part of an hour - just a small one, a traditional swallow on his client’s forearm - and wasn’t far from done. He wasn’t exactly trying to rush it, but he was freaking hungry. His stomach had definitely made audible protests since he’d been working, though his client showed no sign of having heard. All three of them were tied up now, machines buzzing away at different frequencies and the chatter of his coworkers and their canvases filling the air of the shop just like any other day. Except it was the farthest from any other day as Jensen could imagine. His phone was uncharacteristically on his workbench - covered for its protection - immediately next to him so he could maybe not-so-secretly obsess over if he had any notifications which may or may not be from Jared. So far nothing. _And quite right, Jensen. Jesus you’ve hardly left the guy. Get a fucking grip._ And apart from the grumbling in his stomach, the soreness where he was sitting was less strictly uncomfortable and actually more like awkwardly stimulating. Every time he shifted he was reminded of Jared’s dick inside him, hollowing him out, carving a space for himself and making Jensen his. He loved every thought, but his dick loved it too, and it was very clearly not a good time.

Jensen was resolutely focused on his work, adding some shading to the swallow’s wing, when the door chime went off. He was in the middle of this section, and he had enough trouble keeping focused, just wanting to get it done, so he decided he’d let Danneel or Jason deal with the interruption. It took him a moment to realize that he heard no one talking and both his coworker’s machines were still buzzing away. He sighed, frustrated, and wondered what it would take for Danneel and Jason to take a turn every once in a fucking while-

He apologized to his client and put down his needle, turning to face the door sharply, barely masking his irritation when it all suddenly melted away, taking his breath with it.

Jared was standing in the middle of the shop, smiling at Jensen a little bashfully, his dimples in full force and an actual fucking sparkle in his damned bright and beautiful eyes. He looked good enough to eat; his hair was clean and straight and calling out to Jensen’s itching fingers, and he was wearing slim-fitting jeans that hugged him in all the right places, and _Jensen’s sweater_ \- he must’ve forgotten to grab it in his panic this morning - despite it being decidedly too warm for it. It turned Jensen’s heart into a puddle in his chest. In one hand, Jared carried a tray with two coffees, and wedged in-between them was a brown paper bag that could only contain something edible. When Jensen finally blinked, Jared waved at him with his free hand and laughed a little.

“Hey,” he said.

Danneel and Jason were not-so-subtly watching from their work stations and Jensen suddenly realized he couldn’t care less as he finally found his legs and walked up to Jared.

“Hey, yourself.” Jensen said back, looking up at him. “What’s all this?”

“You were in such a rush, well. I figured it meant you didn’t get breakfast so… I brought breakfast. Lunch. Or, whatever you wanna call it. It’s food. For us. Is it- is that okay?” Jared was already rambling a little, his cheeks getting pink, but then it was like he took in all their clients and he looked suddenly worried. He lowered his voice just for Jensen to hear next. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Is it okay that I came in while you’re working?”

Jensen could barely contain himself; Jared made him so fucking happy. He smiled as he looked up at Jared and hoped he could see all the things he wasn’t about to say, at least, not here.

“Yeah, Jared. Of course. Of course it’s okay.” He lighted his hands on Jared hips and Jared set down the tray to make room. Jensen leaned in and tilted his head up, kissing Jared sweetly, a habit so new but already as natural as breathing. Jensen was sure Danneel’s eyebrows were about to fly off her face and Jason was probably wearing the stunned expression of a deer in the headlights. It only made him all the more keen to tease a little at Jared’s lip with the tip of his tongue, nipping around the ring there just so. Jared gripped his hips in return, humming into the kiss, and Jensen could feel him relaxing. Then he pulled back just enough so he could look up into Jared’s Prismacolor eyes, reading emotions there that he knew were reflected just as strongly in his own; the irrefutable knowledge that, despite having spent so little time in each others’ presence, this thing between them was real and it felt so _right_. As he leaned in for another soft kiss, his brain and body agreed that he could very easily get used to this. His heart knew he already was.

 

\---

 

Jared was relieved when his impromptu visit to Wayward Sails was not only totally okay with Jensen, but also enthusiastically rewarded with an unexpected show of affection in the form of Jensen kisses (permanently embedded in the top-five of Jared’s list of favourite things). When Jensen had pulled back to gaze into his eyes - clearly the chick flick moments from last night were continuing into today - Jared was sure he saw the same feelings there that he felt swelling under the multiple layers of _Jensen_ that he bore on his chest: first, and most obviously, his sweater; underneath that, the varying marks he’d left on his body, both the still-tender tattoo and those made by his mouth the night before; and finally, his very heart which undeniably now belonged to Jensen as well. He smiled down at Jensen as they shared another quick kiss, and Jared pulled him into a tight embrace.

“So,” Jared breathed as he loosened his grip on Jensen’s body and pulled away to flash a deeply dimpled grin at him. “I understand you’re very busy and in high-demand, but I was wondering if you could fit me into your schedule.”

“Oh yeah?” Jensen smirked. “When did you have in mind?”

 “How about every day for the rest of forever?” Jared held his breath, torn between the absolute rightness of what he felt and the small seed of uncertainty - _was it too much, was he moving too fast_? The shop had gone silent, both of the other artists temporarily paused in their work to openly eavesdrop on their coworker’s conversation. Every shadow of doubt was irradiated from Jared’s mind when Jensen broke into the widest grin he’d ever seen and briefly tightened his hold around Jared’s waist.

“I’ll have to check my schedule, but I think I’ve got the perfect opening for you,” Jensen winked cheekily as he pulled away then, nodding his head towards his client and making a show of checking his watch. “Should be done here in, say, 15 minutes? Would you be okay to start then?”

“Sounds perfect.” Jared had never looked forward to anything more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said in the notes before the fic that my beta is amazing and always goes above and beyond? Well, she also put together a sketch of Jensen's tattoo for a visual reference. Mhm. She is too good to me. Please, enjoy!
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